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DEMOCRACY    AND    LIBERTY 


VOL.  I. 


BY    THE     SAME    AUTHOB. 


HISTORY   of   ENGLAND  in  the  EIGHTEENTH 
CENTURY. 
Library  Edition.    8  vols.  8vo.  £7.  4*. 
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AUGUSTUS  to  CHARLEMAGNE.  2  vols.  Crown  8\o. 
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THE  EMPIRE  :   its  Value   and  its   Growth.     An 

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LONGMANS,    GREEN,    &    CO. 
London,  New  York,  and  Bombay. 


ud  &         £a 


DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 


BY 


WILLIAM    EDWARD    HARTPOLE    LECKY 

/// 


VOLUME   I. 


LONGMANS,     GREEN,     AND     CO. 

LONDON,  NEW  YOEK,  AND   BOMBAY 
1896 

All    rights    reservi'il 


•few 

L36 
VI 


PEEFACB 


Many  years  ago,  when  I  was  deeply  immersed  in  the  History 
of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  I  remember  being 
struck  by  a  saying  of  my  old  and  illustrious  friend,  Mr. 
W.  R.  Greg,  that  he  could  not  understand  the  state  of  mind  of 
a  man  who,  when  so  many  questions  of  burning  and  absorb- 
ing interest  were  rising  around  him,  could  devote  the  best 
years  of  his  life  to  the  study  of  a  vanished  past.  I  do  not 
think  the  course  I  was  then  taking  is  incapable  of  defence. 
The  history  of  the  past  is  not  without  its  uses  in  elucidating 
the  politics  of  the  present ;  and  in  an  age  and  country  in 
which  politicians  and  reformers  are  abundantly  numerous,  it 
is  not  undesirable  that  a  few  men  should  persistently  remain 
outside  the  arena.  But  the  study  of  a  period  of  history  as 
recent  as  that  with  which  I  was  occupied  certainly  does 
not  tend  to  diminish  political  interests,  and  a  writer  may  be 
pardoned  if  he  believes  that  it  brings  with  it  kinds  of  know- 
ledge and  methods  of  reasoning  that  may  be  of  some  use  in 
the  discussion  of  contemporary  questions. 

The  present  work  deals  with  a  large  number  of  these 
questions,  some  of  them  lying  in  the  very  centre  of  party 
controversies.  I  had  intended  to  introduce  it  with  a  few 
remarks  on  the  advantage  of  such  topics  being  occasionally 
discussed  by  writers  who  are  wholly  unconnected  with 
practical  politics,  and  who  might  therefore  bring  to  them  a 
more  independent  judgment  and  a  more  judicial  temperament 
than  could  be  easily  found  in  active  politicians.  This  preface 
I  cannot  now  write.  At  a  time  when  the  greater  portion  of 
my  book  was  already  in  the  printers'  hands  an  unexpected 


VI  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

request,  which  I  could  not  gratefully  or  graciously  refuse, 
brought  me  into  the  circle  of  parliamentary  life.  But 
although  my  own  position  has  been  altered,  I  have  not 
allowed  this  fact  to  alter  the  character  of  my  book.  While 
expressing  strong  opinions  on  many  much-contested  party 
questions,  I  have  endeavoured  to  treat  them  with  that 
perfect  independence  of  judgment,  without  which  a  work  of 
this  kind  can  have  no  permanent  value.  Nor  have  I  thought 
it  necessary  to  cancel  a  passage  in  defence  of  university 
representation  in  general,  and  of  the  representation  of 
Dublin  University  in  particular,  which  was  written  when  I 
had  no  idea  that  it  could  possibly  be  regarded  as  a  defence 
of  my  own  position. 

One  of  the  principal  difficulties  of  a  book  dealing  with 
the  present  aspects  and  tendencies  of  the  political  world  in 
many  different  countries  lies  in  the  constant  changes  in  the 
subjects  that  it  treats.  The  task  of  the  writer  is  often  like 
that  of  a  painter  who  is  painting  the  ever-shifting  scenery  of 
the  clouds.  The  great  tendencies  of  the  wTorld  alter  slowly, 
but  the  balance  of  power  in  parliaments  and  constitutions  is 
continually  modified,  and,  under  the  incessant  activity  of 
modern  legislation,  large  groups  of  subjects  are  constantly 
assuming  new  forms.  I  have  endeavoured  to  follow  these 
changes  up  to  a  very  recent  period  ;  but  in  dealing  with 
foreign  countries  this  is  sometimes  a  matter  of  no  small 
difficulty,  and  I  trust  the  reader  will  excuse  me  if  I  have  not 
always  altogether  succeeded. 

London  :  February,  189G. 


CONTENTS 


THE     FIRST     VOLUME 


CHAPTER  I 


PAGE 


English  Representative  Government  in  the  Eighteenth  Century 

Objects  to  be  attained 1 

Taxation  and  representation 2 

Power  of  landed  property 2 

And  of  the  commercial  classes 3 

Aristocratic  influence 3 

Diversities  in  the  size  of  constituencies  and  qualification  of  electors  4 

The  small  boroughs 4 

Dislike  to  organic  change 6 

Merits  of  English  government 7 

The  founders  of  the  American  Republic  aimed  at  the  same  ends        .  7 

Judge  Story  on  the  suffrage 8 

Rousseau's  conception  of  government  essentially  different          .         .  10 

Review  of  the  French  constitutions,  1789-1830 10 

Ascendency  of  the  middle  class  in  France,  1830-1848         ...  13 

English  Reform  Bill  of  1832— Its  causes 13 

Fears  it  excited  not  justified  by  the  event 17 

Place  of  the  middle  class  in  English  government 17 

The  period  from  1832  to  1867 18 

Votes  not  always  a  true  test  of  opinion 18 

Motives  that  govern  the  more  ignorant  voters     .....  19 

Dangers  of  too  great  degradation  of  the  suffrage 21 

Growth  of  Rousseau's  doctrine  in  England — The  Irish  representa- 
tion   L'2 

University  representation 23 

The  new  form  of  sycophancy 25 

Attacks  on  plural  voting 25 

Equal  electoral  districts 20 

Taxation  passing  wholly  under  the  control  of  numbers  .         .        .     .  27 
Successful  parliaments  mainly  elected  on  a  high  sutfrage  .         .         .28 

Instability  of  democracies 28 

When  they  are  least  dangerous 29 


Vlll  DEMOCRACY   AND  LIBERTY 

PAGE 

French  Democracy 

Favourable  circumstances  under  which  it  has  been  tried    ...  29 

Manhood  suffrage  in  1848 30 

Restricted  in  1850 31 

Re-established    by  Louis    Napoleon — The    Coup    d'Etat    and    the 

plebiscite 31 

Universal  suffrage  under  the  Second  Empire 31 

Last  days  of  the  Empire 32 

Democracy  and  the  Franco-German  War 33 

The  Third  Republic 35 

Weakness  of  the  President 35 

Decline  of  political  ideals 36 

Ministerial  instability 37 

The  permanent  service 38 

The  Republic  and  liberty 39 

French  Finance,  1814-1870 40 

French  Finance  during  the  Republic 45 

Forms  of  corruption  and  extravagance 46 

Good  credit  of  France 48 

Financial  dangers   .        .         .    , 49 

Scherer  on  French  political  life 50 

Lowered  political  tone 51 

American  Democracy 

Characteristics  of  the  American  Constitution 53 

Its  framers  dreaded  democracy 55 

Advantageous  circumstances  of  America 55 

Growth  of  democratic  influence  in  the  Presidential  elections          .     .  57 

Elections  for  the  Senate— Characteristics  of  that  body      ...  57 

The  lowering  of  the  suffrage 58 

Elected  judges — The  '  Molly  Maguires  ' 60 

Corruption  of  the  judicature 62 

Growth  of  the  spoils  system 64 

Political  assessments  on  office-holders 67 

Connection  of  the  spoils  system  with  democracy         ....  69 

American  party  warfare 70 

Attempts  to  restrict  the  spoils  system 72 

The  ballot  in  America 73 

Lax  naturalisation — The  Know-Nothing  party 75 

The  Irish  vote 76 

Enfranchisement  of  negroes        .                 77 

Corruption  in  New  York 78 

Municipal  corruption  general  in  the  great  cities          ....  80 

Measures  of  Reform.    Judges  made  more  independent .        .        .        .    .  84 

Power  of  local  legislatures  limited 84 

Increased  authority  of  the  mayors 85 

Mr.  Bryce  on  American  corruption 88 


CONTEXTS   OF   THE   FIRST   VOLUME  IX 

PAGK 

American  acquiescence  in  corruption      .         .         .  *              .         .     .  93 

The  best  life  apart  from  politics 94 

Summary  by  Mr.  Bryce 95 

Protective  strength  of  the  Constitution 95 

American  optimism 97 

Influence  of  the  separation  of  Church  and  State  on  political  morals  .  98 

Public  spirit  during  the  War  of  Secession 98 

And  after  its  conclusion 99 

Excellence  of  general  legislation  in  the  United  States    .         .        .     .  100 

Tocqueville's  judgments— Changes  since  he  wrote      ....  101 

Corruption  in  railroad  management 103 

Abolition  of  slavery— Its  influence  on  foreign  policy  ....  104 

Intellectual  side  of  American  civilisation 105 

Democracy  not  favourable  to  the  higher  intellectual  life    .         .         .  108 

The  prospects  of  the  Eepublic 109 

Protection 110 

The  Pension  List 110 

Lessons  to  be  drawn  from  American  experience          ....  112 


CHAPTER  II 

Majorities  required  in  different  nations  for  constitutional  changes      .  113 
Attempt  to  introduce  the  two-thirds  majority  system  in  New  South 

Wales 114 

Small  stress  placed  in  England  on  legislative  machinery    .        .         .  114 

'The  English  belief  in  government  by  gentlemen 115 

Declining    efficiency    of    parliamentary    government     throughout 

Europe 118 

England  has  not  escaped  the  evil 119 

Increasing  power  and  pretensions  of  the  House  of  Commons      .         .  120 

The  Parish  Councils  Bill  of  1894 120 

Excess  of  parliamentary  speaking — Its  causes 121 

Its  effects  on  public  business 123 

Growth  of  the  caucus  fatal  to  the  independence  of  the  House  of 

Commons        ...........  123 

The  relation  of  the  House  to  Government — disintegration  of  parties  124 

Kesults  of  the  group  system 125 

Increase  of  log-rolling 126 

And  of  the  appetite  for  organic  change 127 

Both  parties  have  contributed  to  this 127 

Conservatism  in  English  Radicalism 128 

Growth  of  class  bribery 128 

Rendered  easy  by  our  system  of  taxation 129 

Sir  Cornewall  Lewis  on  the  best  taxation — Indirect  taxation         .     .  129 

Remissions  of  direct  taxation  sometimes  the  most  beneficial      .         .  130 
Exaggeration   of  Free    Trade — The    corn    registration    duty — The 

London  coal  dues 131 

The  abolition  of  the  income  tax  made  an  election  cry  in  1874 — His- 
tory of  this  election 132 


X  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

PAGE 

Appeals  to  class  cupidity  by  the  Irish  Land  League  ....  138 

Its  success  has  strengthened  the  tendency  to  class  bribery     .         .     .  138 

Irish  Land  Question 

Peculiar  difficulties  to  be  dealt  with  in  Ireland  .....  138 

Tenants'  improvements — Sharman  Crawford's  proposals       .         .     .  139 

The  Devon  Commission 140 

Abortive  attempts  to  protect  improvements   .         .         .         .         .     .  141 

Land  Act  of  1860 141 

And  of  1870 — Its  merits  and  demerits 142 

Paucity  of  leases  and  tenants'  improvements  -  How  viewed  in  Ireland.  146 

Eents  in  Ireland  before  1870  not  generally  extortionate          .         .     .  147 

But  such  rents  did  exist,  and  most  tenancies  were  precarious    .         .  149 

The  Act  of  1881 150 

Absolute  ownership  of  land  under  the  Incumbered  Estates  Act          .  150 

Circumstances  under  which  this  Act  had  been  carried — Its  nature    .  150 

It  guaranteed  complete  ownership  under  a  parliamentary  title  .         .  152 

Confiscation  of  Landlord  Rights  by  the  Act  of  1881.     The  purchased 

improvements 153 

Fixity  of  tenure  given  to  the  present  tenant 153 

Which  could  not  honestly  be  done  without  compensating  the  owner  .  153 

Inseparable  rights  of  ownership  destroyed 154 

The  New  Land  Court  and  its  proceedings 155 

'  Judicial  decisions  ' 157 

Eights  of  the  Legislature  over  landed  property — Mill         .         .         .  157 

Dishonest  character  of  Irish  land  legislation 158 

The  defence  of  the  Act  of  1881 159 

Misconception  of  its  effects 160 

The  language  of  Mr.  Gladstone 161 

The    Act   failed    to    pacify    Ireland — Effects   of    the    Home    Kule 

agitation 162 

The  Land  Act  of  1887 163 

Tendency  of  subversive  principles  in  legislation  to  grow        .         .     .  165 

Landlord  claim  for  compensation 165 

Effects  of  the  land  legislation  on  Irish  capital  and  contracts         .     .  167 

On  the  ultimate  position  of  tenants 168 

Moral  effects  of  this  legislation 169 

The  Evicted  Tenants  Bill 170 

The  worst  form  of  robbery,  legal  robbery 172 

Dangers  of  the  Irish  precedent 173 

Mr.  George's  comparison  of  Irish  and  American  landlordism         .     .  174 

Where  should  State  intervention  stop  ? 175 

Other  Attacks  on  Property 

Theories  of  Mr.  George 175 

Mill's  doctrine  of  the  '  unearned  increment ' 176 

English  land  no  longer  the  source  of  English  food      ....  178 

Attacks  on  national  debts 179 

On  mining  royalties I79 

On  literary  property 180 


CONTENTS   OF   THE   FIRST   VOLUME  XI 

PAGB 

Nationalisation  of  railroads,  &c.   ' 182 

Cautions  in  dealing  with  such  questions — Is  democracy  suited  to  the 

task? 183 

The  worship  of  majorities .  184 

Old  and  New  Jesuitism 184 

Influence  of  philosophical  speculation  on  politics        ....  185 

Character  in  public  life — How  far  democratic  election  secures  it  .  .  186 
The  Home  Rule  alliance — Compared  with  the  coalition  of  North  and 

Fox 188 

Effects  of  the  lowering  of  the  suffrage  on  political  morality  .         .     .  189 

And  of  the  increased  hurry  of  modern  life  ...                 .         .  190 

Personal  and  class  interests  in  politics  .......  190 

Inadequate  sense  of  the  criminality  of  political  misdeeds  .         .         .  191 

The  ethics  of  party 192 

Nonconformist  ministers  and  Mr.  Parnell 195 

Relative  importance  of  private  and  public  morals  in  politics  .         .     .  196 

Growth  of  the  professional  politician 196 

Democratic  local  government — its  good  and  evil 197 

Place  of  wealth  in  modern  politics 198 

Measures  that  must  strengthen  the  professional  politician     .         .     .  199 

High  standard  of  political  integrity  in  Great  Britain  ....  200 

Probity  of  the  .permanent  service  ........  200 

Better  side  of  the  Mouse  of  Commons         ......  201 

Competitive  examinations — Their  drawbacks  .  •  ...  .  .. ......  ..-•-.■  201 

Their  great  use  in  restraining  corruption 203 

The  character  of  a  nation  not  always  sfiown  by  its  public  life  .  .  203 
Evidence  that  English  character  has  not  declined — Its  moral  and 

philanthropic  side 204 

Its  robuster  qualities  .    -. .     *-  -. .--    v^  -  .  _  ^.  ___ .  205 

The  governing  capacity — Egypt  and  India 206 

Dangers  to  India  in  democratic  government 207 

High  chaicidUl  ul  En&liuh  muiiiul|Jal  g\H'ernment                             .     .  208 

Political  influence  of  the  provincial  towns 209 

Influence  of  the  telegraph  on  politics  —Provincial  press         .        .     .  209 

Modern  England  not  barren  in  great  men 210 

CHAPTER  III 

Democracy  an  inevitable  fact 212 

Is  not  uniformly  favourable  to  liberty 212 

Illustrations  from  Roman  and  French  history 212 

Equality  naturally  hostile  to  liberty 212 

Love  of  democracy  for  authoritative  regulation 213 

Effects  of  the  increase  of  State  power  —  Taxation  and  liberty          .     .  214 

Other  dangers  to  liberty 214 

Party  system  hastened  the  transformation 215 

Some  suggested  Remedies 

Change  in  the  Irish  representation 216 

Class  representation -Its  history  and^iecline 218 


Xll  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

PAGE 

Representation  of  minorities 220 

An  educational  franchise 225 

Mill's  suggestions  for  mitigating  dangers  of  universal  suffrage  .         .  226 

Repudiated  by  modern  Radicalism — The  '  fancy '  franchises  .         .     .  228 

The  Swiss  Referendum— Its  history  and  influence      ....  229 

Its  recent  adoption  in  the  United  States        .        .         .         ...  232 

Attempt  to  introduce  it  into  Belgium 236 

Arguments  for  and  against  it 237 

Belief  that  a  low  suffrage  is  naturally  conservative  ....  243 
Extension  of  the  power  of   committees — The  American  committee 

system 244 

The  French  system 246 

English  parliamentary  committees — Devolution 246 

Proposal  that  Governments  should  only  resign  on  a  vote  of  want  of 

confidence 247 

Arguments  against  it 247 

Probability  that  democratic  Parliaments  will  sink  in  power        .         .  248 

Democratic  local  government— Success  of  English  local  government  249 

Largely  due  to  property  qualifications 250 

Almost  all  of  them  now  abolished — Act  of  1894  ....  251 
This   is   the   more   serious   on   account   of   the   great   increase    in 

taxation 251 

The  local  debt 252 

Increase  of  State  Taxation  in  Europe — Its  Causes 

Military  expenditure—  Standing  armies 252 

Buckle's  prediction  of  the  decline  of  wars 254 

The  commercial  spirit  now  favours  territorial  aggrandisement  .        .  255 

Growing  popularity  of  universal  military  service 256 

Arguments  in  its  defence 256 

Importance  of  the  question  to  the  English  race 258 

Arguments  against  it 258 

Conscription  and  universal  suffrage  connected 261 

But  the  military  system  may  come  into  collision  with  the  parliamen- 
tary system 261 

National  education — Its  social  and  political  effects        .         .         .     .  262 

Primary  education  assuming  the  character  of  secondary  education    .  266 

Sanitary  reform      . 267 

Reformatories  and  prison  reform 271 

Increased    taxation   due   to   increased   State   regulation  —  Herbert 

Spencer's  views 272 

Necessity  for  some  extension  of  State  control 272 

Advantages  of  State  action  in  some  fields 273 

Government  credit — Enterprises  remunerative  to  the  State   .         .     .  274 

Unremunerative  forms  of  literature  and  art 275 

Subsidies  to  the  theatre 275 

Dangers  of  State  regulation  and  subsidies 276 

Change  in  the  character  of  democracy  since  Joseph  Hume    .         .     .  277 

Motives  that  have  led  to  State  aggrandisement  .....  277 


CONTENTS   OF   THE   FIRST   VOLUME 


xm 


Mr.  Goschen  on  its  extent 278 

Attempts  to  push   it   still  further — The   Manchester  school  repu- 
diated        278 

Tendency  to  throw  all  taxation  on  one  class 279 

Tocqueville  and  Young  on  English  taxes  in  the  eighteenth  century  .  279 

Progressive  taxes  of  Pitt 280 

Abolition  of  taxes  on  the  necessaries  of  life 280 

Bentham,  Mill,  and  Montesquieu  on  exempted  incomes         .         .     .  281 

Lord  Derby's  description  of  English  taxation 281 

Taxation  mainly  on  the  rich  and  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  .  282 

Adam  Smith  on  the  rules  for  taxation 282 

Thiers  on  the  same  subject 283 

Advantages  of  taxation  of  luxuries 283 

Growing  popularity  of  graduated  taxation — Its  early  history          .     .  284 

Taxation  in  Switzerland,  the  Netherlands,  and  New  Zealand     .         .  285 

In  France  and  the  United  States 286 

Arguments  against  graduated  taxation ,  286 

Probability  that  it  will  increase 289 

Its  effect  on  the  disposition  of  landed  property 289 

On  the  position  and  habits  of  the  upper  classes      .....  290 

On  personal  property 293 

Wealth  dissociated  from  duties 294 

Democracy  not  indifferent  to  wealth 297 


CHAPTER  IV 

ARISTOCRACIES   AND   UPPER    CHAMBERS 

Dangers  of  government  by  a  single  Chamber 299 

Countries  where  it  exists 300 

Lessons  derived  from  the  Commonwealth 301 

From  the  United  States 301 

From  France        .                                   302 

Early  History  of  the  House  of  Lords 

Effects  of  the  Reformation  and  the  Rebellion 302 

Of  the  Revolution  of  1688 303 

Importance  of  the  small  boroughs  in  sustaining  its  influence     .         .  303 

The  Peerage  Bill  of  Stanhope 304 

The  Scotch  Union 304 

The  Resolution  of  1711 304 

Creations  of  George  III. — The  Irish  Union 305 

Position  of  the  spiritual  peers 306 

The  House  of  Lords  under  George  III.  not  unpopular         .        .         .  307 

Power  of  personal  interest  on  its  members  before  1832  .         .         .     .  308 

Their  influence  in  the  House  of  Commons 309 

Attitude  of  the  peers  towards  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832    .         .         .     .  309 

Change  in  their  position  effected  by  the  Bill 310 

Importance  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  making  legislation  harmonise 

with  the  popular  will 310 


XIV  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

PAGK 

In  diminishing  the  too  great  influence  of  party  in  legislation     .         .  311 

In  protecting  minorities  .         .        .                311 

Its  ecclesiastical  policy 312 

Its  general  moderation 313 

Attacks  on  the  Lords  after  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832   .        .        .         .313 

TJie  Hereditary  Element 

Advantages  of  special  education  for  politics 314 

Influences  that  maintain  the  character  of  the  British  aristocracy         .  315 

Their  energy  and  power  of  adaptation 319 

Large  amount  of  ability  among  them 320 

Advantages  the  nation  derives  from  an  aristocracy     ....  321 

Representative  character  of  the  House  of  Lords 322 

Popularity  of  the  aristocracy  in  England 324 

Its  good  and  evil  sides 325 

Aristocracy  and  plutocracy 325 

Debility  and  apathy  of  the  House  of  Lords 330 

Causes  of  its  Debility 

The  small  quorum — Proxies 331 

Discouraging  influences  in  the  House 332 

Jealousy  of  the  House  of  Commons  of  Bills  originating  in  the  Lords  .  333 

Financial  impotence  of  the  Lords 334 

Sole  right  of  the  Commons  to  originate  Money  Bills       .         .         .     .  334 

The  Lords  deprived  of  their  old  right  of  amending  them     .         .         .  334 

Difficulty  of  maintaining  this  rule — Its  relaxation 335 

The  right  of  rejecting  Money  Bills 337 

Repeal  of  the  pap*er  duties  in  1860 337 

The  different  provisions  of  the  Budget  combined  in  one  Bill      .         .  342 

Connection  of  taxation  and  representation 343 

Powers  of  foreign  Senates  over  finance 344 

Dangers  of  the  concentration  of  all  financial  power  in  one  House — Its 

mitigations  in  England       . 344 

The  House  of  Lords  cannot  overthrow  Ministers        ....  345 

Its  Judicial  Functions 

Its  origin  and  abuses 346 

Attempts  to  make  lawyers  life  peers 347 

The  peerage  of  Lord  Wensleydale  (1856) 347 

Later  attempts  to  create  life  peers 350 

Lord  Selborne's  Court  of  Appeal  (1873) 350 

Lord  Cairns's  new  Appellate  Court  in  the  House  of  Lords  .         .         .  351 

Success  of  this  measure 352 

Its  modification  in  1887 352 

Excessive  and  increasing  number  of  new  peerages          .         .         .     .  352 

Elements  from  which  they  are  drawn 353 

Imperfect  recognition  of  non-political  eminence 355 

One-sided  political  influence  in  the  House  of  Lords    ....  357 

This  fact  a  recent  one— Its  causes 358 


CONTENTS   OF  TILE   FIRST  VOLUME  XV 

PACK 

Parliamentary  history,  1892-1895 358 

The  crusade  against  the  Lords 359 

The  election  of  1895,  and  its  lessons 362 

The  importance  of  a  reform  of  the  House  of  Lords  not  diminished     .  363 

Foreign  Upper  Houses 

The  Roman  Senate 364 

The  Senate  of  the  United  States 365 

The  French  Senate 372 

The  German  Bundesrath 372 

Upper  Houses  in  Prussia,  Austria,  and  Italy 374 

In  Spain  and  Switzerland 375 

In  the  Netherlands 376 

In  Belgium 377 

Colonial  Coiistitutions 

Their  general  character 378 

The  Canadian  Senate — The  Newfoundland  Constitution    .        .         .  378 

African  colonial  Governments — The  island  colonies       .         .         .     .  379 

Upper  Chambers  in  Australia  and  New  Zealand          ....  380 

Proposals  for  reforming  the  House  of  Lords 

Advantages  of  retaining  a  limited  hereditary  element     .        .         .     .  381 

Life  peers 383 

Proposals  for  a  larger  introduction  of  the  representative  principle  .     .  383 

The  limitation  of  the  veto 385 

Bight  of  ministers  to  sit  in  both  Houses 387 

Advantages  and  disadvantages  of  carrying  unfinished  legislation  into 

a  second  session 388 

This   should   at  least   be  done   in  the  case  of  amendments  in  the 

Lords 390 


CHAPTER  V 

NATIONALITIES 

Changes  in  the  basis  of  international  politics 391 

The  rights  of  nationalities  in  the  French  Bevolution     .        .         .     .  392 

Completely  ignored  after  the  fall  of  Napoleon 392 

Signs  of  revival  before  1830     French  Bevolution  of  that  year        .     .  393 

And  of  1848 393 

Italian  writers  on  nationality 394 

Nationality  not  necessarily  a  democratic  idea 395 

Ambiguities  about  the  elements  that  constitute  it 395 

Plebiscites 396 

Good  and  evil  sides  of  the  doctrine  of  nationalities        .         .        .     .  398 

Not  applicable  to  uncivilised  nations 398 

Plebiscites  frequently  deceptive 398 

Dangers  of  pushing  the  nationality  doctrine  to  its  full  consequences  399 

VOL.   I.  a 


xvi  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

PAGE 

America  a  Test  Case 

Its  annexations 401 

The  secession  of  the  South 401 

Analysis  of  English  opinion  on  the  War  of  Secession     .         .         .     .  403 

The  Northern  case  for  repressing  the  revolt 406 

Nearly  all  finjQBflafl  ptfijiiotiojia  nh~"f  tha  'W  Tim*""1  ta&SB.          •    •  406 

The  Italian  Question 

Impulse  it  gave  to  the  doctrine  of  nationalities 407 

Invasions  of  Naples  and  Rome 408 

The  Peace  of  Villafranca  and  the  Roman  question          .         .        .     .  409 

The  Italian  policy  of  England 409 

Lord  J.  Russell's  estimate  of  the  plebiscites 410 

Success  of  the  English  policy 411 

Policy  of  Napoleon  III.— And  of  England 412 

The  unity  of  Italy  dearly  purchased 413 

The  unity  of  Germany — The  agglomeration  of  race  elements         .     .  415 
Conflicting  tendencies    towards    agglomeration   and   towards    local 

unities 416 

Increased  value  attached  to  national  languages 416 

The  military  system  accentuates  national  differences          .         .         .  417 

Difficulties  of  reconciling  local  aspirations  with  imperial  interests      .  417 

Influences  that  are  weakening  the  nationalist  spirit    ....  418 

CHAPTEE  VI 

DEMOCRACY   AND   RELIGIOUS   LIBERTY 

Nations  differ  in  their  conceptions  of  liberty  and  in  the  kinds  of  liberty 

they  value 420 

Importance  of  taking  stock  of  our  conceptions  of  liberty    .         .         .  423 

Religious  Freedom 

Its  growth  in  English  law 424 

And  in  public  opinion — Causes  of  increased  tolerance         .        .        .  424 
Contrast  between  Catholic  opinion  in  England  and  that  in  Rome  and 

Canada •      .         .         .     .  425 

Abolition  of  religious  disqualifications  in  the  United  States        .         .  427 

In  France,  Belgium,  and  Prussia 427 

Slow  progress  of  the  movement  in  England — The  Catholic  question  427 
Disqualifications  of  Nonconformists,  Jews,  Atheists,  &c,  gradually 

abolished          .                                           428 

Higher  education  thrown  open  to  Dissenters — Its  effects        .         .     .  429 

The  Established  Church — Arguments  for  and  against  it  changed        .  432 

The  modern  case  for  an  establishment 432 

Strengthened  by  abolition  of  disqualifications 434 

Enlargement    of    the    limits    of    the    Church —Relation    of    Non- 
conformists to  it 434 

Subscription  to  Articles — Indelibility  of  orders — Decisions  of  Privy 

Council 436 


CONTENTS   OF  THE   FIRST   VOLUME  XV11 

PAGR 

Decline  of  intolerance  in  continental  legislations— Sweden     .        .     .  437 

Austria 438 

Spain  and  Portugal 438 

Limitation  or  modification  of  religious  liberty 440 

India 

Early  religious  policy  of  the  East  India  Company       ....  441 

Admission  of  missionaries  in  1813 441 

Prohibition  of  infanticide  and  human  sacrifices          ....  442 

Abolition  of  the  suttee 442 

Attitude  of  Government  towards  caste  and  idolatrous  worship    .         .  444 

Measures  of  1833  and  1838 445 

Changes  in  the  laws  of  inheritance  and  marriage        ....  445 

Memorandum  of  Colonel  Herbert  Edwardes 440 

Queen's  Proclamation  in  1858 447 

Philanthropic  tendencies  hostile  to  the  old  beliefs           .         .        .     .  447 

Indian  education  and  its  effects 448 

Mormonism 

Polygamy  not  its  original  doctrine 449 

Early  history  of  Mormonism 449 

Murder  of  Joseph  Smith 450 

Emigration  to  the  Salt  Lake 451 

Utah  becomes  an  American  Territory — Its  early  history         .         .     .  451 

Should  polygamy  be  tolerated  ? 453 

Congress  undertakes  to  stamp  it  out — The  Edmunds  law       .         .     .  455 

Other  measures  against  polygamy 457 

Conflicting  opinions  about  their  success 458 

Influences  within  Mormonism  hostile  to  polygamy     ....  459 

Polygamy  abandoned  by  the  Mormons 460 

Utah  made  a  State .        .        .462 

Anglo-Saxon  democracy  favourable  to  religious  liberty  .         .         .     .  463 

The  sentiment  of  nationality  sometimes  hostile  to  it  .         .         .         .  463 

The  Anti-Semite  movement    .........  463 

The  Russian  persecution .  465 


DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 


CHAPTEK   I 

The  most  remarkable  political  characteristic  of  the  latter 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  unquestionably  been  the 
complete  displacement  of  the  centre  of  power  in  free  govern- 
ments, and  the  accompanying  changes  in  the  prevailing 
theories  about  the  principles  on  which  representative  govern- 
ment should  be  based.  It  has  extended  over  a  great  part  of 
the  civilised  world,  and,  although  it  has  had  all  the  effects  of 
a  profound  and  far-reaching  revolution,  it  has,  in  some  of 
the  most  conspicuous  instances,  been  effected  without  any 
act  of  violence  or  any  change  in  the  external  framework  of 
government.  I  have  attempted  in  another  work  to  describe 
at  length  the  guiding  principles  on  which  the  English  par- 
liamentary government  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  mainly 
based,  and  which  found  their  best  expression  and  defence  in 
the  writings  of  Burke.  It  was  then  almost  universally  held 
that  the  right  of  voting  was  not  a  natural  right,  but  a  right 
conferred  by  legislation  on  grounds  of  expediency,  or,  in  other 
words,  for  the  benefit  of  the  State.  As  the  House  of  Com- 
mons had  been,  since  the  Revolution  of  1688,  the  most 
powerful  element  of  the  Constitution,  nothing  in  the  Consti- 
tution was  deemed  more  important  than  the  efficiency  of  the 
machine,  and  measures  of  parliamentary  reform  were  con- 
sidered good  or  bad  exactly  in  proportion  as  they  conduced 
to  this  end.  The  objects  to  be  attained  were  very  various, 
and  they  were  best  attained  by  a  great  variety  and  diversity 
of  representation.  It  was  necessary  to  bring  together  abody 
VOL.    I.  U 


2  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  men  of  sufficient  intelligence  and  knowledge  to  exercise 
wisely  their  great  power  in  the  State.  It  was  necessary  to 
represent,  and  to  represent  in  their  due  proportions,  the 
various  forms  and  tendencies  of  political  opinion  existing  in 
the  nation.  It  was  necessary  to  represent  with  the  same 
completeness  and  proportion  the  various  and  often  conflicting 
class  interests,  so  that  the  wants  of  each  class  might  be 
attended  to  and  the  grievances  of  each  class  might  be  heard 
and  redressed.  It  was  also  in  the  highest  degree  necessary 
that  the  property  of  the  country  should  be  specially  and 
strongly  represented.  Parliament  was  essentialty  a  machine 
for  taxing,  and  it  was  therefore  right  that  those  who  paid 
taxes  should  have  a  decisive  voice,  and  that  those  who  chiefly 
paid  should  chiefly  control.  The  indissoluble  connection 
between  taxation  and  representation  was  the  very  mainspring 
of  English  conceptions  of  freedom.  That  no  man  should  be 
taxed  except  by  his  own  consent  was  the  principle  which 
was  at  the  root  of  the  American  Revolution.  It  was  the 
chief  source  of  all  extensions  of  representative  government, 
and  it  was  also  the  true  defence  of  the  property  qualifications 
and  voting  privileges  which  concentrated  the  chief  power  in 
the  hands  of  the  classes  who  were  the  largest  taxpayers. 
No  danger  in  representative  government  was  deemed  greater 
than  that  it  should  degenerate  into  a  system  of  veiled  con- 
fiscation— one  class  voting  the  taxes  which  another  class 
was  compelled  to  pay. 

It  was  also  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  old  system  of 
representation  that  the  chief  political  power  should  be  with 
the  owners  of  land.  The  doctrine  that  the  men  to  whom 
the  land  belonged  were  the  men  who  ought  to  govern  it  was 
held,  not  only  by  a  great  body  of  English  Tories,  but  also  by 
Benjamin  Franklin  and  by  a  large  section  of  the  American 
colonists.  It  was  urged  that  the  freeholders  had  a  fixed, 
permanent,  inalienable  interest  in  the  country,  widely  dif- 
ferent from  the  migratory  and  often  transient  interests  of 
trade  and  commerce ;  that  their  fortunes  were  much  more 
indissolubly  blended  with  the  fortunes  of  the  State  ;  that 
they  represented  in  the  highest  degree  that  healthy  continuity 


ARISTOCRATIC   INFLUENCE  3 

of  habit  and  policy  which  is  most  essential  to  the  well-being 
of  nations.  As  Burke,  however,  observed,  the  introduction 
of  the  borough  representation  showed  that  the  English 
Legislature  was  not  intended  to  be  solely  a  legislature  .of 
freeholders.  The  commercial  and  trading  interests  had  also 
their  place  in  it,  and  after  the  Revolution  that  place  became 
exceedingly  great.  It  was  strengthened  by  the  small  and 
venal  boroughs,  which  were  largely  in  the  hands  of  men  who 
had  acquired  great  fortunes  in  commerce  or  trade.  The 
policy  of  the  Revolution  Government  was,  on  the  whole,  more 
decidedly  directed  by  commercial  views  than  by  any  others, 
and  it  was  undoubtedly  the  small  boroughs  which,  during  the 
first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  mainly  kept  the  Hano- 
verian family  on  the  throne. 

Aristocratic  influence  in  the  Constitution  was  always  very 
great,  though  it  was  never  absolute.  The  House  of  Commons 
after  the  Revolution  was  a  stronger  body  than  the  House  of 
Lords.  The  most  powerful  ministers  of  the  eighteenth 
century  were  commoners.  Great  popular  movements  in  the 
country  never  failed  to  influence  the  Legislature,  though  they 
acted  less  promptly  and  less  decisively  than  in  later  periods. 
On  the  other  hand,  a  considerable  proportion  of  the  members 
of  the  House  of  Commons  were  returned  by  members  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  nearly  every  great  family  had  at  least 
one  representative  in  the  Commons.  The  aristocracy  formed 
a  connecting  link  between  the  smaller  country  gentry  and 
the  trading  and  industrial  interests.  Like  the  latter,  but 
unlike  the  former,  they  were  usually  supporters  of  the  system 
of  government  established  by  the  Revolution,  of  the  Whig 
interest,  and  of  the  Hanoverian  dynasty.  They  possessed 
in  many  cases  great  fortunes  in  money ;  they  had  wider  in- 
terests and  more  cosmopolitan  tastes  than  the  ordinary 
country  gentlemen ;  and  they  shared  with  the  commercial 
classes  the  ascendency  in  the  boroughs.  A  few  of  them  had 
risen  from  those  classes,  or  were  connected  with  them  by 
marriage  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they  were  the  chief  land- 
owners, the  natural  leaders  of  the  landowning  classes 

It  was  contended  that  this  system  secured  the  harmony 

11  2 


4  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

between  the  two  branches  of  the  Legislature,  and  that  aris- 
tocratic ascendency  brought  with  it  many  other  advantages. 
The  possession  of  land,  more  than  any  other  form  of  property, 
is  connected  with  the  performance  of  public  duties,  and  the 
great  landowner  was  constantly  exercising  in  his  own  dis- 
trict governing  and  administrative  functions  that  were 
peculiarly  fitted  to  give  him  the  kind  of  knowledge  and 
capacity  that  is  most  needed  for  a  legislator.  Men  of  this 
class  may  have  many  faults,  but  they  are  at  least  not  likely 
in  the  management  of  public  affairs  to  prove  either  reckless 
and  irresponsible  adventurers  or  dishonest  trustees.  To  say 
this  may  not  appear  to  be  saying  very  much ;  but  a  country 
which  has  succeeded  in  having  its  public  affairs  habitually 
managed  with  integrity,  and  with  a  due  sense  of  responsibility, 
will  have  escaped  evils  that  have  wrecked  the  prosperity  of 
many  nations.  It  was  urged,  above  all,  that  the  place  which 
the  aristocracy  exercised  in  the  Legislature  had  at  least  the 
advantage  of  reflecting  the  true  facts  and  conditions  of 
English  life.  In  each  county  a  great  resident  noble  is  com- 
monly the  most  important  man.  He  influences  most  largely 
the  lives  and  happiness  of  the  inhabitants,  takes  the  leading 
part  in  local  movements,  exercises  by  general  consent  a  kind 
of  superintendence  and  precedence  among  his  neighbours. 
It  was  therefore  perfectly  in  accordance  with  the  principles 
of  representative  government  that  his  class  should  exercise  a 
somewhat  corresponding  influence  in  the  Legislature. 

In  order  to  attain  these  various  ends  the  House  of  Com- 
mons was  elected  in  a  manner  which  showed  the  most  com- 
plete absence  of  uniformity  and  symmetry.  There  were 
great  differences  both  in  the  size  of  the  constituencies  and 
in  the  nature  of  the  qualifications.  In  many  places  members 
were  returned  by  a  single  man  or  by  a  small  group  of  often 
venal  freemen.  In  other  constituencies  there  was  a  strong 
popular  element,  and  in  some  places  the  scot-and-lot  fran- 
chise approached  nearly  to  universal  suffrage.  The  difference 
of  the  political  power  vested  in  an  individual  voter  in  different 
parts  of  the  country  was  enormously  great,  and  even  the 
House  of  Commons  was  onty  very  partially  a  representative 


THE   SMALL   BOROUGHS  5 

body.  '  About  one  half  of  the  House  of  Commons,'  wrote 
Paley,  '  obtain  their  seats  in  that  Assembly  by  the  election 
of  the  people ;  the  other  half,  by  purchase  or  by  nomina- 
tion of  single  proprietors  of  great  estates.'  l 

The  large  share  in  the  representative  body  which  was 
granted  to  the  two  latter  classes  of  members  was  defended 
by  many  arguments.  It  was  said,  with  truth,  that  the  small 
boroughs  had  introduced,  and  usually  at  an  early  age,  into 
Parliament  by  far  the  greater  number  of  the  men  of  extra- 
ordinary ability  who  have  adorned  it,  and  also  many  useful 
and  experienced  men,  not  quite  in  the  first  rank,  who 
from  narrow  circumstances,  or  from  the  turn  of  their  own 
characters,  or  from  some  unpopular  religious  belief,  or 
from  the  fact  that  they  had  spent  much  of  their  lives  in 
obscure  or  remote  fields  of  public  duty,  would  never  have 
been  acceptable  candidates  in  a  popular  constituency.  To 
ministries  they  were  of  the  utmost  value.  They  gave  a  busy 
minister  a  secure  and  independent  seat  free  from  all  local 
demands  and  complications,  enabled  him  to  devote  his  undi- 
vided energies  to  the  administration  of  the  country,  and  made 
it  easy  for  him  to  bring  into  Parliament  any  colleague  or  valu- 
able supporter  who  had  failed  at  an  election,  and  was  perhaps 
under  a  cloud  of  transient  unpopularity.  In  the  eyes,  too,  of 
the  best  thinkers  of  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  of  the 
utmost  importance  that  members  of  Parliament  should  not 
sink  into  simple  delegates.  On  the  broad  lines  and  principles 
of  their  policy  it  was  understood  that  they  should  reflect  the 
sentiments  of  their  constituents  ;  but  the  whole  system  of 
parliamentary  government,  in  the  opinion  of  Burke  and 
most  other  eighteenth-century  statesmen,  would  degenerate  if 
members  were  expected  to  abdicate  their  independent  judg- 
ments, to  submit  to  external  dictation  about  the  details  of 
measures,  to  accept  the  position  of  mere  puppets  pulled  by 
demagogues  or  associations  outside  the  House.  The  presence 
in  Parliament  of  a  large  body  of  men  who  did  not  owe  their 
position  to  popular  favour  secured  an  independent  element  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  affected  the  tone  of  the  whole 
1   Moral  Philosophy,  ii.  218. 


6  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

assembly.  The  borough  system,  also,  concentrating  power 
in  a  few  hands,  greatly  strengthened  ministries.  It  gave 
them  a  steady,  calculable  force,  which  in  many  circumstances, 
but  especially  in  their  foreign  policy,  was  often  of  inestimable 
value.  Fluctuations  of  power  were  less  frequent,  less  violent, 
less  capricious  than  they  afterwards  became.  Ministers 
could  count  more  confidently  on  persistent  parliamentary 
support  in  lines  of  policy  of  which  the  rewards  were  only  to 
be  looked  for  in  a  distant  future ;  amid  the  chequered  for- 
tunes and  the  ever-changing  aspects  of  a  great  struggle. 

This  system  of  representation  was  supported  and  consoli- 
dated by  a  tone  of  political  feeling  which  has  so  completely 
passed  away  that  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  realise  the  power 
which  it  once  possessed —  I  mean  that  strong  indisposition  to 
organic  change,  as  distinguished  from  administrative  reform, 
which  the  best  statesmen  of  all  parties  continually  inculcated . 
They  were  usually  ready  to  meet  practical  evils  as  they  arose, 
but  they  continually  deprecated  any  attempt  to  tamper  with 
the  legislative  machine  itself,  except  under  the  most  im- 
perious necessity.  They  believed  that  the  system  of  the  Con- 
stitution had  grown  up  insensibly  in  accordance  with  the 
wants  of  the  nation ;  that  it  was  a  highly  complex  and 
delicate  machine,  fulfilling  many  different  purposes  and 
acting  in  many  obscure  and  far-reaching  ways,  and  that  a 
disposition  to  pull  it  to  pieces  in  the  interests  of  some  theory 
or  speculation  would  inevitably  lead  to  the  destruction  of 
parliamentary  government.  A  great  part  of  its  virtue  lay 
in  the  traditionary  reverence  that  surrounded  it,  in  the  un- 
written rules  and  restrictions  that  regulated  its  action.  There 
was  no  definite  written  constitution  that  could  be  appealed 
to,  but  in  no  other  form  of  government  did  tacit  understand- 
ings, traditional  observances,  illogical  but  serviceable  com- 
promises, bear  so  great  a  part. 

It  was  claimed  for  this  form  of  government  that,  with  all 
its  defects  and  anomalies,  it  had  unquestionably  worked  well. 
I  may  again  quote  the  words  of  Paley.  '  Before  we  seek  to 
obtain  anything  more,'  he  writes,  '  consider  duly  what  we 
already  have.     We  have  a  House  of  Commons  composed  of 


ENGLISH   AND   AMERICAN   CONSTITUTIONS  7 

548  members,  in  which  number  are  found  the  most  con- 
siderable landholders  and  merchants  of  the  Kingdom ;  the 
heads  of  the  army,  the  navy,  and  the  law  ;  the  occupiers  of 
great  offices  in  the  State ;  together  with  many  private 
individuals  eminent  by  their  knowledge,  eloquence,  and 
activity.  If  the  Country  be  not  safe  in  such  hands,  in  whom 
may  it  confide  its  interests?  If  such  a  number  of  such 
men  be  liable  to  the  influence  of  corrupt  motives,  what 
assembly  of  men  will  be  secure  from  the  same  danger? 
Does  any  new  scheme  of  representation  promise  to  collect 
together  more  wisdom  or  to  produce  firmer  integrity  ?  '  ' 

The  English  Constitution  of  the  eighteenth  century 
might  also  be  tested  in  other  ways.  It  is  incontestable  that 
under  it  England  had  enjoyed  for  a  long  space  of  time  much 
prosperity,  a  far  larger  measure  of  steady  freedom,  and  a 
far  more  equitable  system  of  taxation  than  any  of  the  great 
States  of  the  Continent.  Under  this  form  of  government 
she  passed  successfully  through  the  dangerous  internal  crisis 
of  a  long-disputed  succession ;  she  encountered  successfully 
foreign  dangers  of  the  first  magnitude,  from  the  time  of 
Louis  XIV.  to  the  time  of  Napoleon ;  and  although  her 
history  was  by  no  means  unchequered  by  faults  and 
disasters,  it  was  under  this  system  of  government  that  she 
built  up  her  vast  Indian  Empire  and  largely  extended  and 
organised  her  colonial  dominions. 

The  other  great  type  of  free  government  existing  in  the 
world  was  the  American  Bepublic,  and  it  is  curious  to 
observe  how  closely  the  aims  and  standards  of  the  men  who 
framed  the  memorable  Constitution  of  1787  and  1788 
corresponded  with  those  of  the  English  statesmen  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  It  is  true  that  the  framework  adopted 
was  very  different.  In  the  true  spirit  of  Burke,  the 
American  statesmen  clearly  saw  how  useless  it  would  be  to 
reproduce  all  English  institutions  in  a  country  where  they 
had  no  historical  or  traditional  basis.  The  United  States 
did  not  contain  the  materials  for  founding  a  constitutional 
monarchy  or  a  powerful   aristocracy,  and  a  great  part  of  the 

1  Moral  Philosophy,  ii.  220,  221. 


8  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

traditional  habits  and  observances  that  restrained  and 
regulated  English  parliamentary  government  could  not 
possibly  operate  in  a  new  country  with  the  same  force.  It 
was  necessary  to  adopt  other  means,  but  the  ends  that  were 
aimed  at  were  much  the  same.  To  divide  and  restrict 
power ;  to  secure  property ;  to  check  the  appetite  for 
organic  change ;  to  guard  individual  liberty  against  the 
tyranny  of  the  multitude,  as  well  as  against  the  tyranny  of 
an  individual  or  a  class ;  to  infuse  into  American  political 
life  a  spirit  of  continuity  and  of  sober  and  moderate 
freedom,  were  the  ends  which  the  great  American  statesmen 
set  before  them,  and  which  they  in  a  large  measure  attained. 
They  gave  an  elected  president  during  his  short  period  of 
office  an  amount  of  power  which  was,  on  the  whole,  not  less 
than  that  of  George  III.  They  invested  their  Senate  with 
powers  considerably  beyond  those  of  the  House  of  Lords. 
They  restricted  by  a  clearly  defined  and  written  Constitution 
the  powers  of  the  representative  body,  placing,  among  other 
things,  the  security  of  property,  the  sanctity  of  contract, 
and  the  chief  forms  of  personal  and  religious  liberty  beyond 
the  powers  of  a  mere  parliamentary  majority  to  infringe. 
They  established  a  Supreme  Court  with  the  right  of  inter- 
preting authoritatively  the  Constitution  and  declaring  Acts  of 
Congress  which  exceeded  their  powers  to  be  null  and  void  ; 
they  checked,  or  endeavoured  to  check,  the  violent  oscillations 
of  popular  suffrage  by  introducing  largely  into  the  Constitution 
the  principle  of  double  election ;  and  they  made  such  large 
majorities  necessary  for  the  enactment  of  any  organic 
change  that  these  changes  became  impossible,  except  where 
there  was  an  overwhelming  consensus  of  public  opinion  in 
their  favour. 

In  dealing  with  the  suffrage  they  acted  in  the  same 
spirit.  Chief  Justice  Story  has  treated  this  subject  in  a 
book  which  is,  in  my  opinion,  one  of  the  most  valuable  ever 
written  on  the  science  of  politics.  He  argues  that  'the 
right  of  voting,  like  many  other  rights,  is  one  which,  whether 
it  has  a  fixed  foundation  in  natural  law  or  not,  has  always 
been  treated   in  the  practice  of  nations  as   a  strictly  civil 


THE   AMERICAN    SUFFRAGE  9 

right,  derived  from  and  regulated  by  each  society  according 
to  its  own  circumstances  and  interests.'  On  the  ground  of 
natural  right  it  would  be  impossible  to  exclude  females  from 
voting,  or  to  justify  the  arbitrary  and  varying  enactments  by 
which  different  countries  have  denned  the  age  at  which 
males  attain  their  majorities.  '  If  any  society  is  entrusted 
with  authority  to  settle  the  matter  of  the  age  or  sex 
of  voters,  according  to  its  own  views  of  its  policy,  or 
convenience,  or  justice,  who  shall  say  that  it  has  not  equal 
authority,  for  like  reasons,  to  settle  any  other  matters 
regarding  the  rights,  qualifications,  and  duties  of  voters  ? ' 
The  truth  is  that  '  there  can  be  no  certain  rule  '  on  these 
subjects  '  for  all  ages  and  for  all  nations.'  The  right  of 
suffrage  will  vary  almost  infinitely,  according  to  the  special 
circumstances  and  characteristics  of  a  nation.1 

The  American  Legislature  acted  on  this  principle.  In 
the  colonial  period  '  no  uniform  rules  in  regard  to  the  right 
of  suffrage  existed.  In  some  of  the  Colonies  .  .  .  freeholders 
alone  were  voters  ;  in  others,  a  very  near  approach  was  made 
to  universal  suffrage  among  the  males  of  competent  age  ; 
and  in  others,  again,  a  middle  principle  was  adopted,  which 
made  taxation  and  voting  dependent  upon  each  other,  or 
annexed  to  it  the  qualification  of  holding  some  personal 
estate,  or  the  privilege  of  being  a  freeman  or  the  eldest  son 
of  a  freeholder  of  the  town  or  corporation.'  When  the 
Revolution  separated  the  Colonies  from  the  mother  country 
the  same  diversity  was  suffered  to  continue.  '  In  some  of 
the  States  the  right  of  suffrage  depends  upon  a  certain 
length  of  residence  and  payment  of  taxes  ;  in  others,  upon 
mere  citizenship  and  residence ;  in  others,  upon  the  posses- 
sion of  a  freehold  or  some  estate  of  a  particular  value,  or 
upon  the  payment  of  taxes,  or  performance  of  some  public 
duty,  such  as  service  in  the  militia  or  on  the  highways.  In 
no  two  of  these  State  constitutions  will  it  be  found  that 
the  qualifications  of  the  voters  are  settled  upon  the  same 
uniform  basis.'  A  proposal  to  establish  a  uniform  system  of 
voting  on  a  common  principle  was  brought  before  the 
1  Story,  Commentaries  on  Die  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  ii.  55-58. 


IO  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Convention  which  framed  the  Constitution  of  1787-88, 
but  after  full  discussion  it  was  resolved  to  leave  the  existing 
diversities  untouched,  and  to  confide  to  each  State  the  power 
of  regulating  as  it  pleased  the  system  of  suffrage.  All  that 
the  Convention  established  was,  that  the  electors  for  the 
House  of  Eepresentatives  should,  in  each  State,  have  the 
qualifications  requisite  for  the  electors  of  the  most  numerous 
branch  of  the  State  Legislature.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  for 
many  years  property  qualifications  were  required  in  most 
States  for  electors,  and  a  diversity  in  the  system  of  election 
prevailed  which  was  little,  if  at  all,  less  than  in  England.  In 
several  of  the  State  legislatures,  though  not  in  the  Federal 
Legislature,  a  property  qualification  was  required  in  repre- 
sentatives and  in  the  Federal  Legislature  representatives,  and 
direct  taxes  were  apportioned  by  the  same  ratio.1 

If  we  now  pass  from  the  two  great  English-speaking 
communities  to  France,  we  find  ourselves  in  a  different 
region  of  thought,  over  which  Rousseau  exercised  the 
strongest  influence.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  here  to 
enter  into  a  general  examination  of  the  political  theories  of 
Rousseau,  or  of  the  many  inconsistencies  they  present.  The 
part  of  his  teaching  which  had  most  influence,  and  with 
which  we  are  now  specially  concerned,  is  that  relating  to 
the  suffrage.  He  held  that  absolute  political  equality  was 
the  essential  condition  of  political  freedom,  and  that  no 
diversities  of  power,  or  representations  of  classes  or  interests 
should  be  suffered  to  exist  in  the  Constitution.  Every 
man  should  have  a  vote,  and  a  vote  of  the  same  value ; 
a  representative  should  be  nothing  more  than  a  delegate 
under  the  absolute  control  of  the  constituency  ;  and  no  law 
can  have  any  binding  force  which  has  not  been  directly 
sanctioned  by  the  whole  community.  His  whole  system 
rested  on  the  idea  of  natural  and  inalienable  rights. 

These  views  did  not  at  once  pass  into  French  legislation. 

The  States-General  which  met  in  1789  had  been  elected  by 

orders,   the  nobles  and  the  ecclesiastics   voting   separately 

and  directly  for  their  own  representatives.     For  the  third 

1  Story,  ii.  59-66,  95,  96,  106. 


FRENCH   CONSTITUTIONS  II 

estate  the  system  of  double  election  was  adopted,  the  electors 
being  themselves  elected  by  a  very  wide  constituency,  con- 
sisting of  men  of  twenty-five  who  had  a  settled  abode  and  who 
paid  direct  taxes.  In  the  Constitution  of  1791  the  system  of 
double  election  was  maintained ;  the  right  of  voting  for  the 
primary  assemblies  was  restricted  to  '  active  citizens  '  who, 
among  other  things,  paid  direct  contributions  to  at  least  the 
value  of  three  days'  labour ;  while  the  men  whom  they 
elected,  and  who  in  their  turn  elected  the  representatives, 
were  required  to  possess  a  considerable  property  qualification. 
It  varied,  according  to  the  size  of  the  constituencies  and  the 
nature  of  the  property,  from  a  revenue  of  the  value  of  500 
days'  to  a  revenue  of  the  value  of  100  days'  labour.  In  1792, 
however,  the  Legislative  Assembly  very  nearly  established 
manhood  suffrage,  though  it  was  qualified  by  the  system  of 
double  election.  The  connection  of  voting  with  property 
and  taxation  was  abolished.  All  Frenchmen  of  twenty-one 
who  had  resided  for  a  year  in  the  department,  and  who  were  not 
in  domestic  service,  might  vote  in  the  primary  assemblies,  and 
no  other  qualification  was  required,  either  for  the  elected 
electors  or  for  the  deputies,  except  that  they  should  have 
attained  the  age  of  twenty-five.  It  was  under  this  system 
that  the  Convention — the  most  bloody  and  tyrannical  assembly 
of  which  history  has  any  record — was  elected.  The  Consti- 
tution of  June  1793  completed  the  work  of  democratic 
equality.  The  Convention  decreed  that  '  all  Citizens  have 
an  equal  right  to  concur  in  the  enactment  of  the  law  and  in 
the  nominations  of  their  delegates  or  agents  '  ;  that  '  the 
Sovereign  people  is  the  universality  of  French  citizens,'  and 
that  '  they  should  nominate  directly  their  deputies.'  Popu- 
lation was  made  the  sole  basis  of  national  representation. 
All  citizens  of  twenty-one  years  who  had  resided  for  six 
months  in  the  electoral  district  were  made  voters,  and  every 
40,000  voters  were  entitled  to  return  one  member.  This 
Constitution  itself  was  submitted  to  and  ratified  by  direct 
universal  suffrage. 

The  year  when  this  Constitution  was  enacted  was  one  of 
the  most  tragical  in  French  history.     It  was  the  year  when 


12  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  ancient  monarchy  was  overthrown  ;  when  the  King  and 
Queen  were  brought  to  the  scaffold ;  when  the  flower  of  the 
French  nation  were  mown  down  by  the  guillotine  or  scattered 
as  ruined  exiles  over  Europe  ;  when  the  war  with  England 
began  which  raged,  with  one  short  intermission,  for  more 
than  twenty  years. 

The  Constitution  of  1793  never  came  into  force.  It 
was  adjourned  till  after  the  war,  and  long  before  the  war 
had  terminated  France  had  passed  into  wholly  different 
conditions.  The  downfall  of  the  Jacobins  in  1794  soon 
led  to  a  restriction  of  the  suffrage  and  a  revival  of  the  old 
system  of  double  election,  and  in  the  strong  reaction 
against  the  horrors  of  the  Revolution  France  moved  on  by 
steady  stages  to  the  absolute  despotism  of  Napoleon.  The 
system  of  direct  election  of  members  of  Parliament  was 
not  established  in  France  till  1817,  and  universal  suffrage, 
as  it  had  been  designated  by  the  Convention  in  1793,  did  not 
revive  until  1848.  But  the  theory  that  each  change  in  the 
Constitution  should  be  ratified  by  a  direct  popular  vote 
showed  more  vitality,  and  successive  Governments  soon 
learned  how  easily  a  plebiscite  vote  could  be  secured  and 
directed  by  a  strong  executive,  and  howT  useful  it  might 
become  to  screen  or  to  justify  usurpation.  The  Constitu- 
tion of  1795,  which  founded  the  power  of  the  Directors ;  the 
Constitution  of  1799,  which  placed  the  executive  power  in  the 
hands  of  three  Consuls  elected  for  ten  years ;  the  Constitu- 
tion of  1802,  which  made  Buonaparte  Consul  for  life,  and 
again  remodelled  the  electoral  system ;  the  Empire,  which 
was  established  in  1804,  and  the  additional  Act  of  the  Con- 
stitution promulgated  by  Napoleon  in  1815,  were  all  sub- 
mitted to  a  direct  popular  vote.1 

A  great  displacement  of  political  power  was  effected  by 
the  French  Revolution  of  1830  and  by  the  English  Reform 
Bill  of  1832.  Tocqueville,  in  a  recently  published  book,  has 
shown  very  clearly  how  the  true  significance  of  the  French 
Revolution   of  1830  was  the   complete   ascendency  of   the 

1  See  Jules  Gere,  Hist,  clu  Suffrage  Universel,  12-30,  33 ;  Laferriere,  Con- 
stitutions de  la  France  depicis  1789. 


THE   REFORM   BILL   OF   1832  13 

middle,  or,  as  the  French  say,  bourgeois  class.  In  that 
class  all  political  powers,  franchises,  and  prerogatives  for 
the  next  eighteen  years  were  concentrated ;  their  good  and 
evil  qualities  pervaded  and  governed  the  whole  field  of 
French  politics ;  and,  by  a  happy  coincidence,  the  King  in 
mind  and  character  was  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
representatives  of  the  people.1  Constitutional  government 
was  carried  out  during  these  years  faithfully,  and  in  some 
respects  even  brilliantly,  but  it  was  tainted  by  much 
corruption,  and  it  rested  on  an  electorate  of  much  less  than 
a  quarter  of  a  million. 

In  England,  a  similar  though  not  quite  so  decisive 
influence  was  established  by  the  Eeform  Bill  of  1832. 
Many  causes  contributed  to  this  measure,  but  two  pre- 
dominated over  all  others,  one  of  them  being  industrial 
and  geographical,  and  the  other  political.  The  great  manu- 
facturing inventions  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  called 
into  being  vast  masses  of  unrepresented  opinion  in  the 
provincial  towns,  transferred  the  weight  of  population  from 
the  southern  to  the  northern  half  of  the  island,  and,  partly 
by  depleting  old  centres  of  power,  and  partly  by  creating 
new  ones,  added  enormously  to  the  inequalities  and  anoma- 
lies of  English  representation.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
great  wave  of  Toryism  that  overspread  England  after  the 
French  Revolution  produced  a  greatly  increased  disinclina- 
tion among  the  governing  classes  to  all  change,  and  especi- 
ally to  all  measures  of  parliamentary  reform.  The  Royal 
prerogative  of  summoning  new  centres  of  population  to  send 
members  to  Westminster  had  long  since  become  wholly 
obsolete.  Pitt,  with  much  prescience,  had  attempted  in  1788 
and  1785  to  meet  the  growing  inequalities  of  representation 
and  provide  for  a  gradual  diminution  of  the  nomination 
boroughs  ;  but  his  scheme  was  defeated,  and  he  himself 
abandoned  the  policy  of  reform. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  for  many  years  after  the 
horrors   of    the  French    Revolution   the   anti-reform    party 
represented  with  perfect  fidelity  the  true  sentiments  of  the 
1  Souvenirs  de  Toequeville,  pp.  5-7. 


14  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

English  people,  and  no  kind  of  blame  should  be  attached  to 
the  ministers  who  resisted  parliamentary  reform  during  the 
continuance  of  the  war.  After  that  period,  however,  home 
politics  were  for  some  years  unskilfully  conducted,  and  the 
reform  party  grew  steadily  in  strength.  The  reaction  which 
the  French  Reign  of  Terror  had  produced  had  spent  its 
force.  The  many  forms  of  misery  and  discontent  produced 
by  the  sudden  fall  of  prices,  by  the  enormous  weight  of  the 
war  taxation,  by  the  growth  of  the  factory  system,  and  by 
the  vast  and  painful  transformation  of  industry  it  involved, 
had  all  their  influence  on  political  opinion.  Lord  John 
Russell,  dissociating  parliamentary  reform  from  radical 
schemes  of  universal  suffrage,  electoral  districts,  and  vote  by 
ballot,  repeatedly  brought  forward  the  wise  policy  of  dis- 
franchising small  boroughs  which  were  found  guilty  of  gross 
corruption,  and  transferring  their  seats  to  the  great  unrepre- 
sented towns,  beginning  with  Leeds,  Birmingham,  and 
Manchester.  Such  a  policy,  if  it  had  been  adopted  in  time, 
and  steadily  pursued,  might  have  long  averted  a  great  and 
comprehensive  change ;  but  it  was  obstinately  resisted. 
Many  mistakes,  and  perhaps  still  more  the  establishment  of 
peace,  had  dimmed  the  reputation  which  the  Tory  party 
had  justly  gained  by  their  conduct  of  the  war.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  no  less  just  discredit  which  had  fallen 
upon  the  Whig  party  on  account  of  the  profoundly  un- 
patriotic conduct  of  a  large  section  of  its  members  in  the 
early  years  of  the  war  had  passed  away.  Most  of  its  new 
leaders  were  men  who  had  no  part  in  these  errors,  who  were 
untainted  by  French  sympathies  and  revolutionary  doctrines, 
who  reflected  the  national  feelings  quite  as  truly  as  their 
opponents. 

The  triumph  of  Catholic  Emancipation  greatly  accele- 
rated the  change.  The  Catholic  question  had  been  for 
many  years  that  on  which  public  opinion  was  mainly  con- 
centrated ;  and  experience  shows  that  the  strength  of  public 
opinion  which  is  needed  to  carry  a  great  organic  change  in 
England  can  never  be  simultaneously  evoked  on  two  totally 
different  questions.     Some  very  acute  judges,    indeed,    who 


THE   REFORM  BILL   OF   1832  I  5 

cared  nothing  for  Catholic  Emancipation  in  itself,  steadily 
resisted  it  because  they  saw  that,  once  it  was  carried,  the 
undivided  enthusiasm  of  the  country  would  flow  into  the 
channel  of  reform.1 

After  the  settlement  of  the  Catholic  question  the  Whig 
party,  having  no  longer  the  anti-Popery  prejudice  to  contend 
with,  acquired  all  the  popularity  its  democratic  tendencies 
would  naturally  give  it,  and  obtained  the  undivided  support 
of  the  Protestant  Dissenters.  A  great  Whig  cause  had 
triumphed,  and  it  had  triumphed  by  the  Act  of  a  Tory 
ministry.  The  struggle  had  demonstrated  clearly  the  co- 
ercive power  which  might  be  exercised  over  Parliament  by 
organised  popular  agitation.  The  Tory  party  was  defeated, 
divided,  discredited,  and  discouraged,  and  a  new  class  of  Irish 
reformers  were  introduced  into  Parliament.  The  cry  for 
reform  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  the  triumph  of  the 
cause  in  France  greatly  assisted  it. 

Under  all  these  influences  a  movement  of  public  opinion 
in  favour  of  parliamentary  reform  was  created  which  had 
probably  never  been  equalled  in  England  for  its  spontaneity 
and  force.  The  country  seemed  for  a  time  on  the  verge  of 
revolution ;  but  the  measure  was  at  last  carried.  To  many 
contemporaries  the  destruction  of  the  nomination  boroughs 
and  of  the  controlling  power  of  the  aristocracy  over  the 
House  of  Commons  seemed  destined  to  ruin  the  parliamen- 
tary system  of  England.  But  the  men  who  chiefly 
presided  over  this  great  change  were  genuine  patriots,  pro- 
foundly imbued  with  the  best  political  philosophy  of  the 
English  school,  and  as  far  as  possible  from  sympathy  with 
the  French  apostles  of  liberty.  It  is  curious  to  notice  how 
deeply  rooted  the  English  sentiment  of  the  necessity  to  well- 
ordered  and  enduring  freedom  of  disparities  of  political 
power  has  been,  even  at  the  time  when  parliamentary 
government    was   in    its  infancy.      No   one   expressed  this 

1  Lord  Russell  used  to  relate  that  this  was  the  reason  which  Lord  Lonsdale 
in  private  always  gave  for  his  opposition  to  Catholic  Emancipation.  He  said 
that  he  did  not  care  about  this  measure,  but  he  knew  that,  if  it  were  carried,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  resist  the  cry  for  reform. 


l6  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

feeling  better  than  Shakespeare,  in  the  noble  words  which 

he  places  in  the  mouth  of  Ulysses  : 

Degree  being  vizarded, 
Th'  unworthiest  shows  as  fairly  in  the  mask. 
The  heavens  themselves,  the  planets,  and  this  centre, 
Observe  degree,  priority,  and  place. 


O  !  when  degree  is  shak'd, 
Which  is  the  ladder  to  all  high  designs, 
The  enterprise  is  sick.      How  could  communities, 
Degrees  in  schools,  and  brotherhoods  in  cities, 
Peaceful  commerce  from  dividable  shores, 
The  primogenitive  and  due  of  birth, 
Prerogative  of  age,  crowns,  sceptres,  laurels. 
But  by  degree,  stand  in  authentic  place  ? 
Take  but  degree  away,  untune  that  string, 
And,  hark,  what  discord  follows  !  each  thing  meets 
In  mere  oppugnancy :  the  bounded  waters 
Should  lift  their  bosoms  higher  than  the  shores, 
And  make  a  sop  of  all  this  solid  globe  : 
Strength  should  be  lord  of  imbecility, 
And  the  rude  son  should  strike  his  father  dead  : 
Force  should  be  right ;  or  rather,  right  and  wrong 
(Between  whose  endless  jar  justice  resides) 
Should  lose  their  names,  and  so  should  justice  too. 
Then  everything  includes  itself  in  power, 
Power  into  will,  will  into  appetite  ; 
And  appetite,  a  universal  wolf, 
So  doubly  seconded  with  will  and  power. 
Must  make  perforce  a  universal  prey, 
And  last  eat  up  himself.1 

Though  the  Reform  Bill  undoubtedly  changed  the  centre 

1  Troilus  and  Cressida,  act  i.  scene  3.     So  Milton — 
'  If  not  equal  all,  yet  free, 
Equally  free  ;  for  orders  and  degrees 
Jar  not  with  liberty,  but  well  consist.' 

Paradise  Lost,  Book  V.  1.  7(J1. 
Milton  puts  these  lines  in  the  mouth  of  Satan,  but  in  his  treatise  on  Re- 
formation in  England  he  expi'esses  very  similar  sentiments  in  his  own  person. 
'  There  is  no  civil  government  that  hath  been  known— no,  not  the  Spartan  nor 
the  Roman  .  .  .  more  divinely  and  harmoniously  tuned,  more  equally  balanced 
as  it  were  by  the  hand  and  scale  of  Justice,  than  is  the  Commonwealth  of  Eng- 
land, when,  under  a  firm  and  untutored  monarch,  the  noblest,  worthiest,  and 
most  prudent  men,  with  full  approbation  and  suffrage  of  the  people,  have  in  their 
power  the  supreme  and  final  determination  of  highest  affairs  '  (Book  II.).  On 
the  political  opinions  of  English  poets,  see  the  interesting  preface  to  Sir  Henry 
Taylor's  'Critical  Essays  '  (Works,  v.  xi-xix). 


MIDDLE-CLASS   GOVERNMENT  I  7 

of  political  power  in  England,  it  left  the  leading  character- 
istics of  the  old  system  undestroyed.  The  constituencies  were 
still  very  different  in  size  and  population.  The  suffrage  in 
different  parts  of  the  kingdom  was  very  variously  arranged. 
All  the  old  powers  and  influences  were  retained,  though 
their  proportionate  weight  was  changed.  The  House  of 
Lords  still  remained  an  important  element  in  the  Constitu- 
tion. The  landed  interest  was  still  powerful  in  the  county 
constituencies.  Property  was  specially  and  strongly  repre- 
sented, and  the  Keform  Bill  brought  great  masses  of  hitherto 
unrepresented  property,  as  well  as  great  centres  of  population, 
into  the  circle  of  the  Constitution.  The  middle  class,  which 
now  became  the  most  powerful  in  the  political  system,  was 
one  which  could  be  excellently  trusted  with  a  controlling 
power.  Aristotle  long  since  observed,  that  it  is  to  this  section 
of  the  community  that  the  chief  power  in  government 
may  be  most  wisely  and  most  profitably  given.  It  is  not 
the  class  most  susceptible  to  new  ideas  or  most  prone  to 
great  enterprises,  but  it  is  distinguished  beyond  all  others 
for  its  political  independence,  its  caution,  its  solid  practical 
intelligence,  its  steady  industry,  its  high  moral  average.  It 
also,  perhaps,  feels  more  promptly  and  more  acutely  than  any 
other  class  the  effects  of  misgovernment,  whether  that  mis- 
government  takes  the  form  of  reckless  adventure  and 
extravagant  expenditure,  or  whether,  in  the  not  less  dangerous 
form  of  revolutionary  legislation,  it  disturbs  settled  industries, 
drives  capital  to  other  lands,  and  impairs  the  national  credit, 
on  which  the  whole  commercial  system  must  ultimately  rest. 

In  England,  however,  this  middle  class,  though  it  became 
after  1832  the  most  powerful,  had  not  the  same  absolute 
empire  as  in  France.  The  active  administration  of  affairs 
was  chiefly  in  the  hands  of  the  upper  and  most  cultivated 
class.  The  chief  controlling  power  lay  with  the  great  middle 
classes,  and  followed  mainly  the  bent  of  their  wishes  and 
tendencies.  At  the  same  time,  the  suffrage  was  so  arranged 
that  it  was,  in  some  degree  at  least,  within  the  reach  of  the 
skilled  artisans — a  great  and  intelligent  class,  who  should 

vol.  1.  c 


1 8  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

have   a   distinct  place   and   interest   in  every   well-ordered 
government. 

It  does  not  appear  to  me  that  the  world  has  ever  seen 
a  better  Constitution  than  England  enjoyed  between  the 
Eeform  Bill  of  1832  and  the  Eeform  Bill  of  1867.  Very 
few  parliamentary  governments  have  included  more  talent, 
or  represented  more  faithfully  the  various  interests  and 
opinions  of  a  great  nation,  or  maintained  under  many  trying 
circumstances  a  higher  level  of  political  purity  and  patriotism. 
The  constituencies  at  this  time  coincided  very  substantially 
with  the  area  of  public  opinion.  Every  one  who  will  look 
facts  honestly  in  the  face  can  convince  himself  that  the 
public  opinion  of  a  nation  is  something  quite  different  from 
the  votes  that  can  be  extracted  from  all  the  individuals  who 
compose  it.  There  are  multitudes  in  every  nation  who 
contribute  nothing  to  its  public  opinion  ;  who  never  give  a 
serious  thought  to  public  affairs,  who  have  no  spontaneous 
wish  to  take  any  part  in  them  ;  who,  if  they  are  induced  to 
do  so,  will  act  under  the  complete  direction  of  individuals  or 
organisations  of  another  class.  The  landlord,  the  clergy- 
man or  Dissenting  minister  or  priest,  the  local  agitator, 
or  the  public-house  keeper,  will  direct  their  votes,  and  in 
a  pure  democracy  the  art  of  winning  and  accumulating 
these  votes  will  become  one  of  the  chief  parts  of  practical 
politics. 

Different  motives  will  be  employed  to  attain  it.  Some- 
times the  voter  will  be  directly  bribed  or  directly  intimidated. 
He  will  vote  for  money  or  for  drink,  or  in  order  to  win  the 
favour  or  avert  the  displeasure  of  some  one  who  is  more 
powerful  than  himself.  The  tenant  will  think  of  his  land- 
lord, the  debtor  of  his  creditor,  the  shopkeeper  of  his 
customer.  A  poor,  struggling  man  called  on  to  vote  upon  a 
question  about  which  he  cares  nothing,  and  knows  nothing, 
is  surely  not  to  be  greatly  blamed  if  he  is  governed  by  such 
considerations.  A  still  larger  number  of  votes  will  be  won 
by  persistent  appeals  to  class  cupidities.  The  demagogue 
will  try  to  persuade  the  voter  that  by  following  a  certain 
line  of  policy  every  member  of  his  class  will  obtain  some 


THE   UNIXSTRUCTED   VOTERS  1 9 

advantage.  He  will  encourage  all  his  Utopias.  He  will 
hold  out  hopes  that  by  breaking  contracts,  or  shifting 
taxation  and  the  power  of  taxing,  or  enlarging  the  paternal 
functions  of  government,  something  of  the  property  of  one 
class  may  be  transferred  to  another.  He  will  also  appeal 
persistently,  and  often  successfully,  to  class  jealousies  and 
antipathies.  All  the  divisions  which  naturally  grow  out  of 
class  lines  and  the  relations  between  employer  and  employed 
will  be  studiously  inflamed.  Envy,  covetousness,  prejudice, 
will  become  great  forces  in  political  propagandism.  Every 
real  grievance  will  be  aggravated.  Every  redressed  griev- 
ance will  be  revived  ;  every  imaginary  grievance  will  be 
encouraged.  If  the  poorest,  most  numerous,  and  most 
ignorant  class  can  be  persuaded  to  hate  the  smaller  class, 
and  to  vote  solely  for  the  purpose  of  injuring  them,  the  party 
manager  will  have  achieved  his  end.  To  set  the  many 
against  the  few  becomes  the  chief  object  of  the  electioneer- 
ing agent.  As  education  advances  newspapers  arise  which 
are  intended  solely  for  this  purpose,  and  they  are  often  almost 
the  only  reading  of  great  numbers  of  voters. 

As  far  as  the  most  ignorant  class  have  opinions  of  their 
own,  they  will  be  of  the  vaguest  and  most  childlike  nature. 
When  personal  ascendencies  are  broken  down,  party  colours 
will  often  survive,  and  they  form  one  of  the  few  elements  of 
real  stability.  A  man  will  vote  blue  or  vote  yellow  as  his 
father  did  before  him,  without  much  considering  what 
principles  may  be  connected  with  these  colours.  A  few 
strong  biases  of  class  or  creed  will  often  display  a  great 
vitality.  Large  numbers,  also,  will  naturally  vote  on  what 
is  called  '  the  turn-about  system.'  These  people,  they  will 
say,  have  had  their  turn ;  it  is  now  the  turn  of  the  others. 
This  ebb  and  flow,  which  is  distinct  from  all  vicissitudes  of 
opinion,  and  entirely  irrespective  of  the  good  or  bad  policy 
of  the  Government,  has  become  of  late  years  a  conspicuous 
and  important  element  in  most  constituencies,  and  contri- 
butes powerfully  to  the  decision  of  elections.  In  times  of 
distress  the  flux  or  reflux  of  the  tide  is  greatly  strengthened. 
A   bad   harvest,  or    some   other  disaster   over   which    the 

c  2 


20  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Government  can  have  no  more  influence  than  over  the 
march  of  the  planets,  will  produce  a  discontent  that  will 
often  govern  dubious  votes,  and  may  perhaps  turn  the 
scale  in  a  nearly  balanced  election.  In  all  general  elections 
a  large  number  of  seats  are  lost  and  won  by  very  small 
majorities,  and  influences  such  as  I  have  described  may 
decide  the  issue. 

The  men  who  vote  through  such  motives  are  often  most 
useful  members  of  the  community.  They  are  sober,  honest, 
industrious  labourers ;  excellent  fathers  and  husbands ; 
capable  of  becoming,  if  need  be,  admirable  soldiers.  They 
are  also  often  men  who,  within  the  narrow  circle  of  their 
own  ideas,  surroundings,  and  immediate  interests,  exhibit  no 
small  shrewdness  of  judgment ;  but  they  are  as  ignorant  as 
children  of  the  great  questions  of  foreign,  or  Indian,  or  Irish, 
or  colonial  policy,  of  the  complicated  and  far-reaching 
consequences  of  the  constitutional  changes,  or  the  great 
questions  relating  to  commercial  or  financial  policy,  on 
which  a  general  election  frequently  turns.  If  they  are  asked 
to  vote  on  these  issues,  all  that  can  be  safely  predicted  is 
that  their  decision  will  not  represent  either  settled  conviction 
or  real  knowledge. 

There  is  another  and  very  different  class,  who  are  chiefly 
found  in  the  towns.  They  are  the  kind  of  men  who  may 
be  seen  loitering  listlessly  around  the  doors  of  every  gin- 
shop — men  who,  through  drunkenness,  or  idleness,  or 
dishonesty,  have  failed  in  the  race  of  life  ;  who  either  never 
possessed  or  have  wholly  lost  the  taste  for  honest  continuous 
work  ;  who  hang  loosely  on  the  verge  of  the  criminal  classes, 
and  from  whom  the  criminal  classes  are  chiefly  recruited. 
These  men  are  not  real  labourers,  but  their  presence  con- 
stitutes one  of  the  chief  difficulties  and  dangers  of  all  labour 
questions,  and  in  every  period  of  revolution  and  anarchy 
they  are  galvanised  into  a  sudden  activity.  With  a  very 
low  suffrage  they  become  an  important  element  in  many 
constituencies.  Without  knowledge  and  without  character, 
their  instinct  will  be  to  use  the  power  which  is  given  them 
for  predatory  and  anarchic  purposes.     To  break  up  society, 


THE   DEMOCRATIC   THEORY  21 

to  obtain  a  new  deal  in  the  goods  of  life,  will  naturally  be 
their  object. 

Men  of  these  two  classes  no  doubt  formed  parts  of  the 
old  constituencies,  but  they  formed  so  small  a  part  that 
they  did  not  seriously  derange  the  constitutional  machine  or 
influence  the  methods  of  candidates.  When  they  are  very 
numerous  they  will  naturally  alter  the  whole  action  of  poli- 
ticians, and  they  may  seriously  impair  the  representative 
character  of  Parliament,  by  submerging  or  swamping  the 
varieties  of  genuine  opinion  by  great  uniform  masses  of 
ignorant  and  influenced  voters.  That  symptoms  of  this 
kind  have  appeared  and  increased  in  English  politics  since 
the  Reform  Bill  of  1867  is,  I  believe,  the  growing  conviction 
of  serious  observers.  The  old  healthy  forces  of  English  life 
no  doubt  still  act,  and  on  great  occasions  they  will  probably 
do  so  with  irresistible  power  ;  but  in  normal  times  they  act 
more  feebly  and  more  uncertainly,  and  are  more  liable  to  be 
overborne  by  capricious  impulses  and  unreasoning  fluctuations . 
The  evil  of  evils  in  our  present  politics  is  that  the  constitu- 
encies can  no  longer  be  fully  trusted,  and  that  their  power  is 
so  nearly  absolute  that  they  have  an  almost  complete  con- 
trol over  the  well-being  of  the  Empire. 

One  of  the  great  divisions  of  politics  in  our  day  is  coming 
to  be  whether,  at  the  last  resort,  the  world  should  be  governed 
by  its  ignorance  or  by  its  intelligence.  According  to  the  one 
party,  the  preponderating  power  should  be  with  education 
and  property.  According  to  the  other,  the  ultimate  source  of 
power,  the  supreme  right  of  appeal  and  of  control,  belongs 
legitimately  to  the  majority  of  the  nation  told  by  the  head — 
or,  in  other  words,  to  the  poorest,  the  most  ignorant,  the 
most  incapable,  who  are  necessarily  the  most  numerous. 

It  is  a  theory  which  assuredly  reverses  all  the  past 
experiences  of  mankind.  In  eve^'  field  of  human  enter- 
prise, in  all  the  competitions  of  life,  by  the  inexorable  law 
of  Nature,  superiority  lies  with  the  few,  and  not  with  the 
many,  and  success  can  only  be  attained  by  placing  the  guid- 
ing and  controlling  power  mainly  in  their  hands.  That  the 
interests  of  all  classes  should  be  represented  in  the  Legisla- 


2  2  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

ture ;  that  numbers  as  well  as  intelligence  should  have 
some  voice  in  politics,  is  very  true ;  but  unless  the  govern- 
ment of  mankind  be  essentially  different  from  every  other 
form  of  human  enterprise,  it  must  inevitably  deteriorate  if  it 
is  placed  under  the  direct  control  of  the  most  unintelligent 
classes.  No  one  can  doubt  that  England  has  of  late  years 
advanced  with  gigantic  strides  in  this  direction.  Yet,  surely 
nothing  in  ancient  alchemy  was  more  irrational  than  the 
notion  that  increased  ignorance  in  the  elective  body  will  be 
converted  into  increased  capacity  for  good  government  in 
the  representative  body ;  that  the  best  way  to  improve  the 
world  and  secure  rational  progress  is  to  place  government 
more  and  more  under  the  control  of  the  least  enlightened 
classes.  The  day  will  come  when  it  will  appear  one  of  the 
strangest  facts  in  the  history  of  human  folly  that  such  a 
theory  was  regarded  as  liberal  and  progressive.  In  the 
words  of  Sir  Henry  Maine,  '  Let  any  competently  instructed 
person  turn  over  in  his  mind  the  great  epochs  of  scientific 
invention  and  social  change  during  the  last  two  centuries, 
and  consider  what  would  have  occurred  if  universal  suffrage 
had  been  established  at  any  one  of  them.  Universal  suffrage, 
which  to-day  excludes  free  trade  from  the  United  States, 
would  certainly  have  prohibited  the  spinning-jenny  and  the 
power-loom.  It  would  certainly  have  forbidden  the  thresh- 
ing-machine. It  would  have  prevented  the  adoption  of  the 
Gregorian  Calendar  ;  and  it  would  have  restored  the  Stuarts. 
It  would  have  proscribed  the  Eoman  Catholics,  with  the 
mob  which  burned  Lord  Mansfield's  house  and  library  in 
1780 ;  and  it  would  have  proscribed  the  Dissenters,  with  the 
mob  which  burned  Dr.  Priestley's  house  and  library  in  1791.' ' 
It  is  curious  and  melancholy  to  observe  how  Kousseau's 
doctrine  of  the  omnipotence  of  numbers  and  the  supreme 
virtue  of  political  equality  is  displacing  in  England  all  the 
old  maxims  on  which  English  liberty  once  rested.  I  have 
spoken  of  the  great  inequalities  in  the  qualifications  for  the 
suffrage  that  existed  in  the  United  Kingdom.  They  secured 
a  healthy  diversity  of  character  in  the  representatives,  and 
'  Maine's  Popular  Government,  pp.  35-36. 


THE   IRISH   ELECTORATE  23 

they  followed  with  rough  but  general  fidelity  the  different 
degrees  of  political  advancement.     There  was  one  suffrage 
for  the  towns,  and  another  for  the  country — one  suffrage  for 
England,  and  another  for  Ireland.     All  these  diversities  have 
now  been  swept  away.     The  case   of  Ireland  is  especially 
significant.     Ireland   was   greatly   over-represented   in   the 
Imperial  Parliament,  and  by  universal  acknowledgment  the 
Irish  representatives  formed  the  diseased  spot  in  the  parlia- 
mentary body,  the  disaffected  and  obstructive  element  most 
hostile  to  its  healthy  action.     It  was  also  absolutely  certain 
that  a  lowering  of  the  Irish  suffrage  would  aggravate  the 
evil,  and  introduce  into  Parliament  a  larger  body  of  men 
who  were  completely   alienated   from  the   interests  of  the 
Empire,  and  utterly  indifferent  to  the  dignity  of  Parliament 
and   the   maintenance   of   the  Constitution.     No   one  who 
knew  Ireland  doubted  that  it  would  throw  a   still  larger 
amount  of  power  into  the  hands  of  a  poor,  ignorant,  and 
disaffected   peasantry,    completely   under  the   influence    of 
priests  and  agitators ;  that  it  would  weaken,  and  in  many 
districts  virtually  disfranchise,  loyalty,  property,  and  intelli- 
gence ;  that  it  would  deepen  the  division  of  classes  ;  that  it 
would  enormously  increase  the  difficulty  of  establishing  any 
form  of  moderate  and   honest  self-government.      Nothing, 
indeed,  is  more  certain  than   that   the   elements   of   good 
government   must   be   sought   for   in  Ireland  in   a  higher 
electoral  plane  than  in  England.     The  men  who  introduced 
and  carried  the  degradation  of  the  Irish  suffrage  were  per- 
fectly aware  of  what  they  were  doing.     They  acted  with 
their  eyes  open ;  they  justified  themselves,  in  the  true  spirit 
of  the  Contrat  Social,  on  the  plea  that  they  would  not  allow 
a  political  inequality  to  continue,  and  they  probably  believed 
that  they  were  playing  a  good  card  in  the  party  game. 

A  very  similar  illustration  may  be  found  in  the  language 
now  commonly  held  in  the  Kadical  party  about  university 
representation.  According  to  any  sane  theory  of  representa- 
tive government,  no  form  of  representation  can  be  more 
manifestly  wise.  I  may  here  once  more  go  to  Ireland  for  an 
illustration.     Nothing  in  the  Irish  representation  is  so  mani- 


24  DEMOCRACY   AND  LIBERTY 

festly  wanting  as  a  more  adequate  representation  of  loyalty 
and  intelligence  in  three  provinces.  Loyal  and  well-educated 
men  are  to  be  found  there  in  abundance  ;  in  nearly  every 
form  of  industry,  enterprise,  and  philanthropy,  they  take  the 
foremost  place  ;  but  they  have  no  corresponding  weight  in  the 
political  representation,  as  they  are  usually  swamped  by  an 
ignorant  and  influenced  peasantry.  Owing  to  the  purely 
agricultural  character  of  the  greater  part  of  Ireland,  and  the 
steady  decadence  of  most  of  its  county  towns,  the  Irish 
boroughs  are  for  the  most  part  singularly  small  and  insig- 
nificant. Among  these  boroughs  a  leading  place  must  be 
assigned  to  the  one  university  constituency.  This  great 
University  has  for  many  generations  educated  the  flower  of 
the  intelligence  of  Ireland.  It  has  sent  into  the  Imperial 
Parliament  a  greater  number  of  representatives  of  con- 
spicuous ability  than  any  other  Irish  constituency.  It  com- 
prises more  than  4,300  electors,  and  is,  therefore,  even  in  point 
of  numbers,  much  more  considerable  than  many  Irish 
boroughs ;  and  its  voters  consist  of  highly  educated  men, 
scattered  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  country,  taking  a 
leading  part  in  many  professions  and  industries,  and  coming 
in  close  contact  with  an  altogether  unusual  variety  of  interests, 
classes,  and  opinions.  If  the  object  of  representation  be  to 
reflect  faithfully  in  its  variety  and  due  proportion  the  opinions, 
the  interests,  and  the  intelligence  of  the  community,  what 
constituency  could  be  more  essentially  and  more  usefully 
representative  ?  Yet  we  are  now  told  that,  in  computing  the 
relative  strength  of  parties  in  Ireland,  the  University  repre- 
sentation must  be  subtracted,  as  '  it  does  not  represent  the 
nation.'  This  dignity,  it  appears,  belongs  more  truly  to  the 
illiterates — more  than  one  in  five  professedly  unable  even 
to  read  the  names  upon  the  ballot-papers  ' — who,  in  some 
remote  western  district,  or  in  some  decaying  county  town,  are 
driven  like  sheep  to  the  polling-booth  by  agitators  or  priests  ! 
Surely  it  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  fatuity  of  these 
attacks  upon  university  representation ;  and  the  men  who 

1  Return  sliowing  the  Number  of  Persons  wJw  voted  as  Illiterates  at  the 
General  Election  of  1892  (Feb.  1893). 


ATTACKS   ON   EDUCATION   AND   PROPERTY  25 

make  them  have  rarely  the  excuse  of  honest  ignorance. 
With  many  the  true  motive  is  simply  a  desire  to  extinguish 
constituencies  which  return  members  opposed  to  their 
politics,  and  at  the  same  time,  by  depreciating  the  great 
centres  of  intelligence,  to  flatter  the  more  ignorant  voters.  It 
is  a  truth  which  should  never  be  forgotten,  that  in  the  field  of 
politics  the  spirit  of  servility  and  sycophancy  no  longer  shows 
itself  in  the  adulation  of  kings  and  nobles.  Faithful  to  its  old 
instinct  of  grovelling  at  the  feet  of  power,  it  now  carries  its 
homage  to  another  shrine.  The  men  who,  in  former  ages, 
would  have  sought  by  Byzantine  flattery  to  win  power 
through  the  favour  of  an  emperor  or  a  prince,  will  now  be 
found  declaiming  on  platforms  about  the  iniquity  of  privilege, 
extolling  the  matchless  wisdom  and  nobility  of  the  masses, 
systematically  trying  to  excite  their  passions  or  their 
jealousies,  and  to  win  them  by  bribes  and  flatteries  to  their 
side.  Many  of  those  who  are  doing  their  best  to  reduce  the 
influence  of  education  and  intelligence  in  English  politics 
are  highly  cultivated  men,  who  owe  to  university  education 
all  that  they  are,  though  they  are  now  imitating — usually 
with  awkward  and  overstrained  effort — the  rant  of  the 
vulgar  demagogue.  They  have  taken  their  line  in  public 
life,  and  some  of  them  have  attained  their  ends.  I  do  not 
think  that  the  respect  of  honest  men  will  form  any  large  part 
of  their  reward. 

It  is  curious  how  often  in  modern  England  extreme 
enthusiasm  for  education  is  combined  with  an  utter  disregard 
for  the  opinions  of  the  more  educated  classes.  The  move- 
ment against  the  influence  of  property  is  at  least  as  strong 
as  against  the  influence  of  education.  One  of  the  forms  that 
it  now  chiefly  takes  is  the  outcry  against  plural  voting.  It 
is  denounced  as  an  abuse  and  an  injustice  that  some  great 
landlord  who  has  property  in  several  counties,  or  in  several 
towns,  should  possess  a  vote  for  each  constituency  in  which 
he  possesses  property.  To  me,  at  least,  it  appears  that  such 
an  arrangement  is  most  natural,  expedient,  and  just.  In 
each  of  these  localities  the  voter  has  considerable  material 
interests  ;  in  each  of  them  he  pays  taxes  ;  in  each  of  them  he 


26  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

discharges  public  duties  ;  in  each  of  them  he  probably  exer- 
cises local  influence  as  a  landlord  or  an  employer  of  labour. 
He  takes  part  in  each  constituency  in  local  charities,  in  local 
movements,  in  local  business,  and  represents  in  each  a 
clearly  recognised,  and  often  very  considerable,  force.  Can 
there  be  anything  more  reasonable  than  that  he  should 
have  in  each  constituency  a  voice  in  the  political  repre- 
sentation? Can  there  be  anything  more  irrational  than 
to  maintain  that,  in  all  these  constituencies  except  one,  he 
should  be  denied  that  minute  fraction  of  political  power 
which  is  accorded  to  the  poorest  day-labourer  in  his  employ- 
ment ?  Mill  and  some  other  advocates  of  universal  suffrage 
have  maintained  that  while  every  one  should  have  a  vote, 
plural  voting  should  be  largely  extended,  giving  special 
privileges  to  special  qualifications.  It  would  be  difficult  to 
enact,  and  probably  still  more  difficult  to  maintain,  such 
privileges  under  a  democratic  ascendency  ;  but  plural  voting 
connected  with  property  is  rooted  by  long-established  custom 
in  the  habits  of  the  country,  and  though  its  influence  is  not 
very  great,  it  does  something  to  make  the  Legislature  a  true 
picture  and  reflection  of  the  forces  in  the  country,  and  to 
qualify  the  despotism  of  simple  numbers. 

We  may  take  another  illustration  of  a  different  kind.  Let 
the  reader  place  himself  in  imagination  at  the  Guildhall  or 
at  St.  Paul's,  and  consider  for  a  moment  all  that  is  included 
within  a  square  mile  taken  from  these  centres.  Probably  no 
other  spot  on  the  globe  comprises  so  many  of  the  forms  and 
elements  of  power.  Think  of  all  the  wealth,  all  the  varieties 
of  knowledge,  all  the  kinds  of  influence  and  activity  that 
are  concentrated  in  that  narrow  space.  In  the  most  distant 
quarters  of  the  Empire  men  of  enterprise  and  initiative  turn 
to  the  city  of  London  for  assistance  ;  each  fluctuation  of  its 
prosperity  is  felt  to  the  furthest  confines  of  the  civilised 
world.  There  is  scarcely  a  Government  that  does  not  owe 
something  to  it,  and  its  agencies  radiate  far  beyond  civilisa- 
tion, among  savage  tribes  and  through  unreclaimed  deserts.  It 
is  the  great  heart  of  the  Empire,  beating  in  close,  constant, 
active  correspondence  with  all  its  parts.     And  yet,  according 


DEMOCBACY   AND   TAXATION  2  J 

to  the  democratic  theory,  a  square  mile  of  the  City  should 
have  exactly  the  same  weight  in  the  political  system  as  a 
square  mile  of  Stepney  or  of  Shadwell.  Can  any  one  suppose 
that  a  theory  of  representation  so  palpably  and  grotesquely 
at  variance  with  the  reality  of  things  has  any  real  prospect 
of  enduring  ? 

The  complete  submission  of  all  taxation  to  the  will  of  a 
mere  numerical  majority  is  an  end  which  we  have  not  yet 
fully  attained,  but  towards  which  we  are  manifestly  travel- 
ling. Every  few  years  something  is  done  in  this  direction, 
either  by  lowering  the  suffrage,  or  by  abolishing  ex-officio 
guardians  of  the  poor,  or  by  extinguishing  plural  voting,  or 
by  suppressing  or  weakening  property  qualifications.  The 
inevitable  result  is  to  give  one  class  the  power  of  voting  taxes 
which  another  class  almost  exclusively  pay,  and  the  chief 
taxpayers,  being  completely  swamped,  are  for  all  practical 
purposes  completely  disfranchised.  As  I  have  already 
noticed,  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more  flagrant 
abandonment  of  that  principle  about  the  connection  between 
taxation  and  voting  which  in  former  generations  was  looked 
on  as  the  most  fundamental  principle  of  British  freedom.  It  is 
curious  to  find  men  who  are  steadily  labouring  for  this  end  de- 
claiming on  the  iniquity  of  the  aristocracy  of  the  eighteenth 
century  in  attempting  to  tax  America  without  her  consent. 
Democracy  pushed  to  its  full  consequences  places  the  whole 
property  of  the  country  in  the  hands  of  the  poorest  classes, 
giving  them  unlimited  power  of  helping  themselves.  At  the 
same  time,  under  its  influence  the  effect  of  distant  considera- 
tions on  political  action  is  steadily  diminishing.  Very 
naturally,  every  restraint  of  economy  under  such  a  system  is 
weakened,  and  the  sphere  of  Government  activity  and  ex- 
pense is  rapidly  increased.  But  evils  much  graver  than 
mere  extravagance  and  inequitable  taxation  are  impending 
in  a  country  which  has  no  very  extraordinary  natural  resources, 
and  which  owes  its  almost  unique  economical  position  mainly 
to  its  great  accumulation  of  movable  wealth,  and  to  the 
national  credit  which  secure  wealth  alone  can  give. 

It  is  a  saying  of  the  great  German  historian,  Sybel,  that 


28  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

'  the  realisation  of  universal  suffrage  in  its  consequences  has 
always  been  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  all  parliamentarism.' 
I  believe  that  a  large  majority  of  the  most  serious  and 
dispassionate  observers  of  the  political  world  are  coming 
steadily  to  the  same  conclusion.  Parliamentary  government 
which  is  mainly  directed  by  the  educated  and  propertied 
classes  is  an  essentially  different  thing  from  parliamentary 
government  resting  on  a  purely  democratic  basis.  In  all  the 
instances  in  which  this  form  of  government  has  been  con- 
spicuously successful,  the  representative  body  was  returned 
on  a  restricted  suffrage.  This  is  manifestly  true  of  the 
British  Parliaments  of  the  past.  The  Italian  Parliaments 
which  displayed  such  eminent  wisdom  and  forbearance  after 
the  war  of  1859  and  after  the  death  of  Cavour  ;  the  Austrian 
Parliaments  which  carried  the  singularly  wise  and  moderate 
legislation  that  has  transformed  Austria  from  a  reactionary 
despotism  into  one  of  the  best-governed  countries  in  Europe  ; 
the  Belgian  Parliaments  which,  in  spite  of  furious  religious 
animosities,  established  among  a  French-speaking  population 
constitutional  government  which  endured  without  organic 
change  for  sixty  years,  and  which  their  more  brilliant 
neighbours  have  wholly  failed  to  rival ;  the  Dutch  Parlia- 
ments, which  represent  a  country  where  self-government  has 
long  been  as  perfectly  attained  as  in  any  portion  of  the 
globe — were  all  elected  on  a  very  high  suffrage.  All  these 
nations  have  during  the  last  years  either  entered  upon  the 
experiment  of  democracy  or  are  now  trembling  on  the  verge. 
The  result  is  already  very  apparent.  In  Italy,  where  the 
experiment  has  been  longest  tried,  it  has  already  led  to  a 
great  and  manifest  deterioration  in  public  life.  In  Belgium, 
its  first  effect  was  to  break  up  the  Parliament  into  groups, 
and  to  shatter  the  power  of  the  Moderate  Liberals. 

In  several  countries  pure  democracy  has  been  connected 
with  extreme  instability  of  government,  with  rapidly  in- 
creasing taxation  and  debt,  with  broken  credit,  with  per- 
petual military  insurrections,  with  constantly  recurring 
alternations  of  anarchy  and  despotism.  In  Mexico,  it  has 
been  computed  that  in  the  thirty-two  years  between  1821 


EFFECTS  OF  UNIVERSAL  SUFFRAGE       29 

and  1853  no  less  than  forty-eight  different  forms  of  govern- 
ment succeeded  each   other.1     In  Spain,    democracy  in  its 
most  exaggerated  form  has  been  repeatedly  adopted.     There 
was  an  extremely  democratic  constitution  established  in  1812, 
overthrown  in  1814,  re-established  in  1820,  again  destroyed 
in  1823.     After  a  long  succession  of  insurrections  and   con- 
stitutional vicissitudes,  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  recount, 
universal  suffrage  was  established  by  the  Eepublican  revo- 
lution of  1868.     It  prevailed,  in  spite  of  several  revolutions 
of  power,  till  1877,  and  during  this  time  the  credit  of  the 
country  was  irretrievably  ruined  by  the  immense  increase  of 
the  debt.      In  1877  a  high  property  electoral   qualification 
was  established.     In   1887  it  was  somewhat  modified.     In 
1890  universal  suffrage,   chiefly  qualified   by  a   two   years' 
residence,  was  re-established.2     In  many  cases  where  uni- 
versal suffrage  exists  it  has  been  rendered  nugatory  by  the 
success   with   which   the    governing  power  has  been   able 
to  manage   and   to   drill  it.     There   are  said  to  have  been 
instances  where  a  regiment  of  soldiers  has  been  marched 
to  the  poll  for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  majority  for  the 
Government  candidate.     The  system  has  probably  been  least 
dangerous  in  countries  like  Germany  and  the  United  States, 
where   the   powers   of   the  representative  body  are  greatly 
limited,  or  in  new  and  distant  countries,  inhabited  by  thinly 
scattered,  prosperous,  and  self-reliant  colonists,  and  where 
there  are  no  old  institutions  to  be  destroyed.     Yet,  even  in 
these  cases  the  abuses  and  dangers  that  flow  from  it  are 
very  apparent. 

France,  which  more  than  any  other  country  claims  the 
paternity  of  this  form  of  government,  deserves  our  special 
attention.  In  one  important  respect  she  seemed  peculiarly 
fitted  for  it,  for  the  great  division  of  landed  property  secured 
a  strong  conservative  basis,  and  erected  the  most  formidable 
of  all  barriers  against  socialistic  innovations.  She  was  also, 
on  account  of  her  almost  stationary  population,  much  less 
exposed  than  other  European   nations  to  that  pressure  of 

1  See  Burke's  Life  of  Juarez,  p.  3. 

'-'  Dareste,  Constitutions  Modemes,  i.  017,  Clit,  (>2<i. 


30  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

population  on  means  of  subsistence  which  is  one  of  the  chief 
causes  of  political  disturbances.  At  the  Kevolution  of  1848 
she  passed  at  a  single  bound  from  an  electorate  of  about 
225,000  l  voters  to  universal  manhood  suffrage.  For  a  few 
months  the  new  electors  turned  with  an  overwhelming  enthu- 
siasm to  Lamartine.  At  a  time  when  France  was  peculiarly 
rich  in  great  men  he  was  pre-eminently  the  wonderful  man 
of  his  age,  possessing  nearly  all  the  qualities  that  are  most 
fitted  to  dazzle  great  masses  of  men,  though,  unfortunately, 
not  those  which  are  most  needed  for  the  wise  guidance  of 
affairs.  As  a  poet,  he  was  by  universal  consent  among  the 
very  greatest  France  had  ever  produced,  and  few  men  in  all 
French  literature  have  wielded  the  noble  instrument  of 
French  prose  with  such  consummate  genius  and  skill.  His 
'  History  of  the  Girondins,'  untrue,  inaccurate,  and  mislead- 
ing as  it  is,  had,  probably,  a  greater  influence  on  immediate 
politics  than  any  other  historical  work  that  has  ever  been 
written,  and  the  passionate  enthusiasm  it  aroused  con- 
tributed very  largely  to  the  Eevolution.  He  combined,  too, 
as  no  one  has  done  before  or  since,  the  most  splendid  literary 
gifts  in  poetry  and  prose  with  the  power  of  enthralling 
assemblies  by  his  spoken  words,  swaying  and  restraining  the 
passions  of  vast  multitudes  of  excited  men.  In  a  great  crisis 
he  proved  brave,  honest,  humane,  and  well-meaning,  and  he 
could  judge  large  social  questions  with  wisdom  and  modera- 
tion ;  but  he  had  neither  the  true  strength  nor  practical  talent 
that  are  needed  in  the  government  of  men,  and  he  was  apt 
to  be  led  astray  by  a  childlike  and  unrestrained  vanity. 

His  popularity  was  for  a  time  so  great  that  ten  depart- 
ments and  more  than  two  millions  of  voters  simultaneously 
elected  him  to  the  National  Assembly,  without  any  solicitation 
on  his  part.  But  his  star  soon  faded  :  socialistic  attacks  on 
property  began  to  dominate  at  Paris,  and  under  the  terror  of 
these  attacks  the  great  mass  of  voters  began  to  turn  towards 
a  saviour  of  society.  The  election,  by  an  enormous  majority, 
of  Louis  Napoleon  as  President  in  December,  1848,  clearly 
foreshadowed  the  future,  and  the  extremely  menacing  cha- 

'  Clere,  Hist,  du  Suffrage  Universal,  p.  59. 


UNIVERSAL   SUFFRAGE   IK  FRANCE  31 

racter  which  the  Paris  elections  assumed  led  to  the  law  of 
1850,  which  considerably  restricted  the  suffrage.  It  made 
three  years'  residence  in  the  constituency  necessary  for  an 
elector,  and  it  provided  precise  ,and  stringent  rules  by  which 
that  residence  must  be  ascertained.  In  spite  of  a  furious 
opposition  from  the  Eadical  party,  this  law  was  carried  by  433 
to  240,  and  it  is  said  to  have  disfranchised  more  than  three 
millions  of  voters,  or  about  a  third  part  of  the  electorate.1 

Universal  suffrage  had  lasted  just  two  years  ;  but  in  the 
conflict  which  ensued  between  the  Legislative  Assembly  and 
the  President,  the  latter  clearly  saw  that  it  would  be  his  best 
weapon.  By  a  stroke  of  true  political  sagacity  he  sent  down, 
in  November  1851,  a  powerfully  written  presidential  message, 
calling  upon  the  Assembly  to  repeal  the  law  of  1850,  and  to 
restore  their  franchise  to  the  three  million  voters.  The 
Chamber  received  the  message  with  some  consternation,  and 
after  an  agitated  debate  it  resolved  by  a  majority  of  seven  to 
maintain  the  existing  law.  Less  than  a  month  later  came 
the  Coup  d'Etat  of  December  2,  when  the  chief  statesmen  and 
generals  of  France  were  arrested  in  their  beds  and  carried  in 
the  dark  winter  morning  to  prison  ;  when  the  Chamber  was 
peremptorily  dissolved  ;  when  its  members,  on  their  refusal  to 
obey,  were  led  between  files  of  soldiers  to  the  barracks,  and 
thence  conducted  to  prison  ;  when  all  resistance  was  crushed 
by  military  force,  martial  law,  and  wholesale  deportations. 
One  of  the  first  acts  of  Louis  Napoleon  was  to  announce 
in  the  proclamation  that  dissolved  the  Chamber  that  the 
electoral  law  of  1850  was  annulled  and  universal  suffrage  re- 
established. Two  days  after  the  Coup  d'Etat  it  was  sanc- 
tioned by  a  plebiscite  of  the  army,  and  within  three  weeks 
of  the  same  event,  when  the  greater  part  of  France  was  still 
under  severe  martial  law,  the  act  of  the  President  was  rati- 
fied by  universal  suffrage.  Nearly  eight  millions  of  electors 
are  said  to  have  voted  for  him. 

From  the  Coup  d'Etat  of  December  2  universal  suffrage 
was  duly  installed  in  France.  Another  plebiscite,  which 
took  place  in  November  1852,  made  the  Prince-President 
1  Clere,  pp.  P'2-9f>. 


32  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

Emperor  ;  while  a  fourth,  only  a  few  weeks  before  the  out- 
break of  the  disastrous  war  of  1870,  once  more  sanctioned 
by  overwhelming  majorities  the  imperial  rule.  During  the 
whole  of  this  reign  the  Legislative  Assemblies  were  elected  by 
universal  suffrage,  yet  during  the  greater  part  of  it  the  govern- 
ment was  an  almost  absolute  despotism.  Universal  suffrage 
was  drilled  and  disciplined  into  the  most  obedient  of  servants. 
Every  official,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  was  turned  into 
an  electioneering  agent.  The  limits  of  constituencies  were 
arbitrarily  enlarged,  modified,  or  contracted  to  secure  the 
success  of  the  Government  candidate.  All  the  powers  of 
administration  were  systematically  and  openly  employed  in 
directing  votes.  Each  constituency  was  taught  that  its  pro- 
spect of  obtaining  roads,  or  bridges,  or  harbours,  or  other  local 
advantages  depended  on  its  support  of  the  Government,  and 
that  if  the  official  candidate  succeeded  he  would  have  the 
power  of  distributing  among  his  supporters  innumerable 
small  Government  places,  privileges  and  honours.  The 
powers  of  the  Legislative  Assembly  were  extremely  limited. 
They  came  to  little  more  than  a  right  of  sanctioning  laws 
submitted  to  it  by  the  Government,  and  voting  taxes  under 
great  restrictions.  Until  1860  its  debates  were  not  even 
fully  reported,  and  for  several  years  the  Opposition  consisted 
of  five  men. 

In  1867  and  1868  the  whole  system  was  suddenly  changed. 
The  Emperor  called  one  of  the  members  of  the  old  Oppo- 
sition to  power,  and  made  a  bold  attempt,  by  large  and  liberal 
measures,  to  transform  the  character  of  the  Empire.  The 
right  of  interpellation  was  conceded  to  the  Chamber.  Liberty 
of  the  press,  in  almost  the  widest  measure,  and  a  large 
measure  of  liberty  of  meeting,  were  accorded,  and  the  fierce 
political  life  which  had  been  for  some  seventeen  years  sup- 
pressed burst  out  with  a  volcanic  fury.  Those  who  knew 
France  in  the  last  days  of  the  Empire  will,  I  think,  agree 
with  me  that  there  has  never  been  a  more  violent,  a  more 
dangerous,  or  more  revolutionary  press  than  then  prevailed. 
The  hope  that  active  politicians  would  let  bygones  be  by- 
gones, and  accept  the  compromise  of  a  liberal  empire,  soon 


THE   LIBERAL    EMPIRE  33 

waned.  Furious  attacks  on  the  main  pillars  of  society  at- 
tained an  enormous  popularity,  and  the  very  foundations  of 
the  Empire  were  persistently  assailed.  It  was  at  this  period 
that  the  works  of  M.  Tenot  on  the  Coup  d'Etat  exercised 
their  great  influence.  The  demonstrations  at  the  tomb  of 
Baudin,  who  had  been  shot  on  a  barricade  in  December  1851, 
displayed  the  same  spirit ;  and  the  defiant  eloquence  of 
Gambetta  in  defending  those  who  were  accused  of  riot  in 
connection  with  these  demonstrations  first  brought  that 
tribune  into  public  notice.  The  Emperor,  not  unnaturally, 
refused  to  abandon  the  whole  system  of  official  guidance  at 
the  election  of  the  Chamber  which  met  in  1869,  and  universal 
suffrage  again  returned  a  great  majority  in  his  favour.  But 
the  entire  Parisian  representation  was  won  by  the  Opposition, 
and  a  great  portion  of  it  by  its  most  violent  and  irreconcilable 
wing,  while  in  the  whole  Chamber  not  much  less  than  a 
third  of  the  members  and  a  great  preponderance  of  the  par- 
liamentary talent  were  in  opposition  to  the  Government. 

Most  good  observers  felt  that  a  state  of  things  had  been 
called  into  existence  which  could  not  possibly  last.  The 
Emperor,  in  opening  the  Chamber,  while  deploring  the  growth 
of  subversive  and  anarchical  passions,  declared  his  deter- 
mination to  persevere  in  the  path  he  had  chosen,  and, 
although  he  refused  to  abandon  his  action  over  the  consti- 
tuencies, and  expressly  reserved  to  himself  the  right  of  always 
appealing  to  his  people  independently  of  his  ministers,  he 
greatly  enlarged  the  powers  of  the  Assembly.  In  conjunction 
with  himself  it  now  obtained  the  right  of  initiating  laws  ;  it 
obtained  the  fullest  powers  of  amending  them,  and  the 
ministers  became  responsible  to  it.  The  Constitution  was 
denounced  by  the  Kadical  party  as  a  worthless  mockery, 
but  it  was  sanctioned  by  the  Plebiscite  of  1870.  There  were 
about  7,850,000  votes  in  favour  of  the  Government,  and 
rather  more  than  1,500,000  votes  against  it. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  subversive  passions 
that  had  been  aroused  and  the  grave  internal  dangers 
that  had  arisen  bore  a  great  part  in  impelling  the  Govern- 
ment  into    the    disastrous    Franco-German     War.     There 

VOL.  J.  d 


34  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

can  be  as  little  doubt  that  the  same  causes  vastly  aggra- 
vated the  calamity,  for  it  was  the  fear  of  revolution  that 
prevented  the  Emperor  from  falling  back  on  Paris  after  the 
first  defeat.    When  the  news  of  Sedan  arrived,  and  the  people 
of  Paris  learnt  that  the  Emperor  and  his  whole  army  were 
prisoners  in  the   hands  of   the   Prussians,  the  Republican 
party  saw  that  their  hour  had  arrived.     Instead  of  rallying 
around  the  Empress,  they  at  once,  on  their  own  authority, 
destroyed  the  Government  which  universal  suffrage  had  so 
frequently  and  so  recently  ratified,  and  drove  the  Regent  into 
exile.     Few  things  in  French  history  are  more  mournfully 
significant  than  that  the  streets  of  Paris  were  illuminated 
the  night  after  the  disaster  of  Sedan  was  known.     In  the 
eyes   of   the  party  which  now  ruled,    the   triumph  of   the 
Republic   more    than    compensated   for   the    most   terrible 
calamity  that  had  ever  befallen  their  country.     One  of  the 
principal  streets  in  Paris  still  bears  the  name  of  the  Fourth  of 
September,  the  day  when  this  revolution  was  accomplished. 
It  is,  apparently,  still  regarded  by  some  Frenchmen  as  a  day 
of  which  they  may  be  proud. 

It  deprived  France  of  a  settled  Government  at  the  moment 
when  such  a  Government  was  most  imperiously  needed,  and 
one  of  its  most  certain  results  was  the  useless  prolongation 
of  a  hopeless  war.  There  is  little  doubt  that  if  the  Empire 
had  survived  Sedan  peace  would  have  speedily  been  made, 
and,  although  Strasburg  was  irrevocably  lost,  Metz  would 
have  been  saved ;  the  war  indemnity  would  have  been  far 
less  ;  the  vast  expenditure  of  life  and  property  and  human 
suffering  that  marked  the  later  months  of  the  war  would 
have  been  prevented,  and  France  might  have  escaped  the 
most  hideous,  shameful,  and  wicked  of  all  insurrections — the 
Communist  rising  against  a  French  Government  under  the 
eyes  of  a  victorious  invading  army. 

Happily,  in  this  dark  crisis  of  her  fate  France  found  a 
really  great  man,  who  in  intellectual  stature  seemed  to  tower 
like  a  giant  among  his  contemporaries  ;  and  it  is  a  curiously 
significant  fact  that  he  was  one  of  the  few  surviving  states- 
men who  had  been   formed  in  the  parliamentary  conflicts 


THE   FRENCH   PRESIDENCY  35 

under  Louis  Philippe,  before  the  millennium  of   universal 
suffrage  had  dawned  upon  the  land. 

It  is,  perhaps,  somewhat  rash  to  discuss  the  Government 
which  ensued,  under  which  France  still  subsists.  In  the 
rapidly  changing  kaleidoscope  of  French  politics  it  may  soon 
take  a  new  form,  and  something  may  easily  occur  which  will 
give  it  a  complexion  somewhat  different  from  my  present 
judgment.  Still,  twenty-three  years  have  elapsed  since  1870 
and  the  time  at  which  I  am  writing,  and  this  space  is  long 
enough  to  furnish  us  with  some  general  conclusions.  The 
French  Bepublic  is,  not  only  in  form,  but  in  reality,  a  Govern- 
ment of  universal  suffrage,  acting  with  very  little  control. 
Its  democratic  character  is  chiefly  qualified  by  the  position 
of  the  Senate,  which  has  some  special  elements  of  strength, 
that  will  be  considered  in  another  chapter.  The  position 
of  the  President  was  for  some  time  not  very  clearly  deter- 
mined. As  interpreted  by  Thiers  it  carried  with  it  great 
governing  powers.  Thiers  was,  indeed,  essentially  his  own 
prime  minister ;  he  insisted  upon  the  Chamber  carrying  out 
his  policy ;  he  corresponded  directly  with  foreign  ambas- 
sadors ;  he  held  the  threads  of  foreign  policy  so  exclusively 
in  his  own  hands  that  the  whole  question  of  the  evacuation 
of  the  territory  was  entirely  managed  by  him,  without  re- 
ference to  his  ministers,  and  it  is  said  that  no  documents 
relating  to  it  were  found  in  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs.1 
His  ascendency,  however,  was  mainly  due  to  his  great  per- 
sonality and  reputation,  and  after  his  resignation,  and  es- 
pecially after  the  constitutional  laws  of  1875,  the  French 
President  assumed  a  position  very  little  different  from  that  of 
a  constitutional  monarch.  Unlike  the  American  President, 
unlike  the  French  Emperor,  the  President  does  not  owe  his 
position  to  the  direct  and  independent  action  of  universal 
suffrage.  He  is  elected  by  the  Senate  and  Chamber  of 
Deputies  voting  together.  All  his  acts  have  to  be  counter- 
signed by  a  minister.  His  ministers  fall  before  a  vote  of  the 
Assembly,  and  he  cannot  even  dissolve  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  without  the  assent  of  the  Senate.  The  Government 

1  Chaudordv,  La  France  en  1889,  p.  191. 

d  2 


36  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

is,  therefore,  wholly  without  that  strong  executive  which  is 
one  of  the  most  distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  great 
American  republic. 

Whatever  else  may  be  said  of  this  Government,  it  has 
certainly  not  proved  a  brilliant  one.  Few  French  Govern- 
ments have  produced  or  attracted  so  little  eminent  talent, 
or  have  been,  for  the  most  part,  carried  on  by  men  who,  apart 
from  their  official  positions,  are  so  little  known,  have  so 
little  weight  in  their  country,  and  have  hitherto  appealed  so 
feebly  to  the  imaginations  of  the  world.  As  it  seems  to  me, 
one  of  the  characteristic  features  of  our  time  is  the  absence 
of  any  political  ideal  capable  of  exciting  strong  enthusiasm. 
Political  restlessness  and  political  innovation  are  abundantly 
displayed,  but  there  is  nothing  resembling  the  fervid 
devotion  and  the  boundless  hopes  which  the  advent  of 
democracy  excited  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Democracy  has  completely  triumphed  in  two  forms — the 
American  and  the  French — and  we  see  it  fully  working 
before  us.  Men  may  like  it  or  dislike  it,  but  only  rare  and 
very  peculiarly  moulded  minds  can  find  in  the  Government 
of  either  republic  a  subject  for  real  enthusiasm.  The 
French  Revolution,  in  its  earlier  days,  excited  such  an 
enthusiasm  nearly  to  the  point  of  madness,  and  in  1830  and 
1848  French  politics  exercised  an  almost  irresistible  attrac- 
tion over  surrounding  countries.  It  has  been  one  of  the 
achievements  of  the  present  Eepublic  to  destroy  this 
fanaticism.  With  our  closer  insight  into  American  and 
French  democracy,  forms  of  government  seem  to  have  lost 
their  magnetic  power.  The  ideals  and  Utopias  that  float 
before  the  popular  imagination  are  of  another  kind.  They 
point  rather  to  great  social  and  industrial  changes,  to  redis- 
tributions of  wealth,  to  a  dissolution  of  the  present  fabric  of 
society. 

I  do  not  know  that  this  is  altogether  an  evil.  There  is 
a  constant  tendency  in  the  human  mind  to  expect  too  much 
from  Governments,  and  brilliancy  in  these  spheres  is  often 
sought  by  violent  constitutional  innovations  or  military 
adventure.     At  the  same  time,  when  the  Government  of  a 


THE   FRENCH   REPUBLIC  $J 

country  fails  to  excite  enthusiasm,  or  even  interest,  there  is 
apt  to  be  some  decline  of  patriotism,  and  there  is  much 
danger  that  the  craving  for  excitement,  which  is  so  deeply 
implanted  in  human  nature,  and  certainly  abundantly 
present  in  French  nature,  may  some  day  burst  out  in  very 
dangerous  forms.  It  has  often  been  said  that  one  of  the 
causes  of  the  popularity  of  military  adventure  in  great 
despotisms  is  the  absence  of  any  interest  in  ordinary  public 
life.  In  the  light  of  the  present  condition  of  France,  it  is 
exceedingly  curious  to  read  the  speeches  of  Lamartine, 
Cremieux,  and  the  other  men  who  played  the  chief  part  in 
the  Revolution  of  1848.  The  charge  which  they  brought 
against  the  Government  of  Louis  Philippe  was  much  less 
that  it  was  guilty  of  any  positive  fault,  than  that  it  failed 
to  give  France  the  brilliancj''  and  the  prominence  in  Europe 
which  were  her  due.  She  appeared,  they  contended,  like  a 
dowdy,  ill-dressed  figure  in  the  concert  of  nations.  Yet, 
who  can  doubt  that  at  that  period  the  amount  of  brilliant 
talent  in  French  public  life  was  incomparably  greater  than 
at  present  ? 

The  characteristic  function,  however,  of  government  is 
business,  and  a  Government  that  administers  affairs  with 
steady  wisdom,  tolerance,  and  uprightness  may  well  be 
pardoned  if  it  does  not  appeal  to  the  more  poetic  side  of 
human  nature.  I  suspect,  however,  that  most  impartial 
judges  will  greatly  doubt  whether  modern  French  democracy 
fulfils  these  requirements.  One  of  its  most  conspicuous 
features  has  been  its  extreme,  its  astonishing  ministerial 
instability.  Between  1870  and  the  closing  days  of  1893, 
when  I  write  these  lines,  France  has  had  no  less  than  thirty- 
two  ministries.  It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  a  form 
of  government  which  leads  to  such  instability  can  be  destined 
to  endure,  and  whether  it  is  compatible  with  that  continuity 
of  policy  which  is  one  of  the  most  essential  elements  of 
national  greatness.  One  of  the  causes  that  make  the 
power  of  Russia  in  the  world  so  formidable  is  the  steady 
persistence  of  its  foreign  policy.  Designs  that  may  be 
traced  to  Peter  the  Great  have  been  steadily  pursued,  and 


38  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

in  the  whole  period  from  1816  to  1895  only  three  ministers 
— Nesselrode,  Gortschakoff,  and  Giers — have  directed  the 
foreign  policy  of  the  Empire.  The  great  lines  of  French 
foreign  policy  were  pursued  with  different  degrees  of  energy 
and  success,  but  with  undeviating  persistence,  by  Henry  IV., 
by  Richelieu  and  Mazarin,  by  Louis  XIV.,  and  by  Cardinal 
Fleury.  It  is  probable  that  in  France,  as  in  most 
democracies,  the  permanent  service  includes  men  greatly 
above  the  average  which  universal  suffrage  has  brought  to 
the  front,  and  it  is  in  this  service  that  the  old  administrative 
traditions  are  preserved  and  the  chief  elements  of  good 
government  are  to  be  found.  A  good  permanent  service  has 
often  saved  a  country  when  its  nominal  rulers  are  utterly 
untrustworthy.  But,  excellent  as  the  service  has  been,  and, 
I  believe,  in  many  of  its  branches  still  is,  in  France,  it  is 
scarcely  possible  that  it  should  not  have  been  profoundly 
affected  by  constant  fluctuations  among  its  chiefs.  Partly 
by  a  desire  to  weed  out  all  officials  who  were  not  in 
accordance  with  the  strictest  Republican  doctrine,  and  partly 
by  the  imperious  desire  felt  by  succeeding  ministries  to 
provide  for  their  followers,  a  system  of  change  has  grown 
up  in  French  official  life  much  like  that  which  has  done 
so  much  to  degrade  American  politics.1  It  is  not,  it  is  true, 
carried  to  the  same  extreme,  but  it  has  introduced  much 
instability  into  spheres  where  steady  continuity  is  of  the 
highest  importance. 

It  produces  not  only  the  evil  of  inexperience,  but 
also  the  still  greater  evil  of  a  lowered  tone.  No  careful 
student  of  French  politics  can  fail  to  have  been  struck 
with   the  many   instances,  since  the  establishment  of  the 

1  Speaking  of  the  Civil  Service  in  France,  M.  Leroy-Beaulieu  says  :  '  Plus 
la  societe  approche  du  regime  democratique  pur,  plus  cette  instabilite  s'accentue. 
...  La  France  sur  ce  point  se  fait  americaine.  Pour  ne  citer  qu'un  petit  fait 
qui  est  singulierement  signiflcatif,  en  1887  a,  l'enterrement  d'unhaut  fonctionnaire 
du  ministere  des  finances,  l'un  de  ses  collegues,  bien  connu  d'ailleurs,  prenait 
la  parole  en  qualite  de  doyen,  disait-il,  des  directeurs  generaux  du  ministere. 
Ce  doyen  avait  quarante-cinq  ou  quarante-six  ans,  si  non  moins.  Que  de  revo- 
cations ou  de  mises  prematurees  a  la  retraite  n'avait-il  pas  fallu  pour  amener  ce 
decanat  precoce  ! '  (L'Etat  et  ses  Functions,  pp.  65-66.)  See,  too,  Scherer,  La 
Democratic  et  la  France,  pp.  26-32. 


THE   FRENCH   REPUBLIC  39 

Republic,  in  which  diplomatists  and  other  officials  have 
violated  the  cardinal  article  of  professional  honour  by 
publishing  to  the  world  secrets  they  had  learned  in  con- 
fidential Government  posts.  There  can  be  no  surer  or  more 
ominous  sign  of  deterioration  in  official  life ;  and  it  is  not 
difficult  to  detect  its  causes.  Much  has  been  due  to  the 
frequency  of  revolutions,  the  functionaries  of  one  dynasty 
regarding  themselves  as  relieved  from  all  obligation  to 
secrecy  when  a  new  form  of  government  was  established. 
Much  is  also  due  to  the  character  of  the  Republic.  A 
prominent  French  politician  who  was  for  four  years  prefect 
of  police  published,  almost  immediately  after  he  left  office, 
two  volumes  of  'recollections,'  full  of  anecdotes  which  would 
be  considered  in  England  scandalous  violations  of  official 
confidence.  The  following  significant  lines  are  his  own 
defence.  '  After  having  found  that  all  means  were  good  for 
overthrowing  the  preceding  regimes,  the  men  who  are  now 
in  power,  in  order  to  consolidate  their  own  authority,  claim 
to  appropriate  all  the  traditions  of  the  monarchies  they  have 
destroyed.  Under  a  monarchy,  the  functionary  who  returns 
to  private  life  retains  obligations  of  gratitude  and  fidelity 
towards  the  dynasty  of  which  he  was  and  will  remain  the 
subject.  But  in  the  system  of  our  institutions,  what 
permanent  element  is  there  in  the  name  of  which  such 
obligations  can  be  imposed  on  me  ?  Do  I  owe  anything  to 
the  existing  Cabinet  ?  Is  it  not  composed  of  my  adver- 
saries ?  Does  it  not  run  counter  to  all  the  ideas  that  are 
dear  to  me  ?  Does  it  not  obstruct  the  path  to  the  hopes  of 
a  better  future  ?  Does  it  not  impose  on  my  country  a  policy 
which  I  detest  ?  '  ' 

We  may  judge  French  democracy  by  other  tests.  Has 
it  raised  France  to  a  higher  plane  of  liberty  than  in  the 
past  ?  The  latitude  of  speaking  and  writing  and  dramatic 
representation  is,  no  doubt,  extremely  great,  but  few  modern 
French  Governments,  in  their  religious  policy  and  in  their 
educational  policy,  have  made  more  determined  efforts  to 
force  upon  great  masses  of  the  population  a  system  of 
1  Andrieux,  Souvenirs  cVun  Prcfet  dc  Police,  ii.  53-54. 


40  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

education  they  detested,  or  to  deprive  them  of  the  religious 
consolation  they  most  dearly  prized.  It  is  very  doubtful 
whether  the  religious  policy  of  Jules  Ferry  and  the  edu- 
cational policy  of  Paul  Bert  were  approved  of  by  the 
majority  of  Frenchmen.  They  are,  probably,  among  the 
many  instances  in  which  a  resolute  and  well-organised 
minority  have  forced  their  policy  on  a  majority  who  were 
for  the  most  part  languid,  divided,  or  unorganised.  If  the 
opinions  of  women  as  well  as  of  men  be  taken  into  account, 
as  they  surely  should  be  in  questions  of  religion  and 
education,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  Government 
policy  was  that  of  a  not  very  considerable  minority.  The 
essential  characteristic  of  true  liberty  is,  that  under  its 
shelter  many  different  types  of  life  and  character,  and  opinion 
and  belief  can  develop  unmolested  and  unobstructed.  Can 
it  be  said  that  the  French  Republic  represents  this  liberty 
in  a  higher  degree  than  other  Governments  ?  It  has  been 
called  a  Government  of  the  working-classes,  but  has  it  in 
this  respect  any  extraordinary  claim  to  our  respect?  On 
nearly  all  working-class  questions,  it  will  be  found  that 
France  has  been  preceded  on  the  path  of  progress  by  British 
legislation.  At  the  present  day,  the  hours  of  work  of  the 
French  labourer  are  in  general  much  longer  than  those  of 
the  Englishman ;  and  I  believe  the  English  workmen,  who 
have  of  late  years  so  carefully  examined  continental  legisla- 
tions, have  very  generally  concluded  that  the)'  have  nothing 
to  envy  in  the  industrial  habits  or  legislation  of  the  Republic. 
Has  it,  at  least,  managed  with  peculiar  wisdom  the 
resources  of  France  ?  The  history  of  French  finances  in  the 
nineteenth  century  is  a  very  curious  one,  and  a  brief  retro- 
spect will  not,  I  think,  be  irrelevant  to  my  present  purpose, 
for  it  throws  much  real  and  instructive  light  on  the  tenden- 
cies of  democracies.  We  may  start  from  the  year  1814, 
when  the  great  French  war  was  concluded.  There  was 
then  an  extraordinary  contrast  between  the  financial  con- 
dition of  Great  Britain  and  that  of  her  conquered  adversary. 
Great  Britain  seemed  almost  crushed  by  her  enormous  debt, 
while  the  debt  of  France  was  quite  inconsiderable.     Partly 


HISTORY   OF   FRENCH   FINANCE  41 

by  unsparing  levies  on  conquered  nations,  and  partly  by  his 
own  extremely  skilful  management  of  French  resources, 
Napoleon  had  made  his  great  wars  almost  self-supporting. 
Putting  aside  the  debts  of  conquered  or  annexed  countries, 
the  whole  debt  of  France  created  between  1800  and 
1814  amounted  only  to  an  annual  payment  in  interest  of 
seven  millions  of  francs,  to  a  nominal  capital  of  140  millions, 
or  less  than  six  millions  of  pounds.1 

The  Hundred  Days,  the  war  indemnity  exacted  after 
Waterloo  by  the  Allies  for  their  expense  in  the  war,  the  cost 
of  the  army  of  occupation,  the  large  sums  which  were  voted 
in  compensation  to  the  plundered  '  emigres,' 2  and  the 
years  of  impaired  and  depreciated  credit  that  followed  the 
Restoration,  added  largely  to  the  debt ;  but  in  the  opinion 
of  the  best  contemporary  authority  on  French  finance,  the 
Government  of  the  Restoration,  in  this  branch  of  administra- 
tion, was  one  of  the  most  skilful,  honourable,  and  economical 
France  has  ever  known.  The  credit  of  the  country  was 
never  so  high  as  in  1830,  and  although  the  debt  was 
increased,  it  was  still  very  trifling  in  comparison  with  the 
resources  of  France.  When  Louis  XVIII.  came  to  the 
throne  it  involved  an  annual  payment  in  interest  of  rather 
more  than  sixty-three  millions  of  francs.  In  1830  this 
payment  had  risen  to  164^  millions.  Rather  more  than 
four  million  pounds  had  thus  been  added  to  the  annual  debt- 
charge.3 

The  reign  of  Louis  Philippe  was  conducted  on  much  the 
same  lines  ;  and  although  the  debt  continued  to  grow,  it  grew 
at  a  far  slower  rate  than  the  revenue  of  the  country.  In 
the  eighteen  years  of  his  reign  Louis  Philippe  added  about 
twelve  and  a  half  millions  of  francs,  or  500,000Z.,  to  the 
annual  debt-charge.  When  his  Government  fell,  in  1848,  the 
French  debt  was  the  second  in  Europe  ;  but  it  was  still  only  a 
fourth  part  of  that  of  Great  Britain,  and  if  the  French  mon- 
archy had  been  as  stable  as  that  of  England,  there  can  be  little 

1  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  ties  Finances  (ed.  1892),  ii.  550. 
-  Rather  more  than  twenty-five  millions  of  francs.     Ibid.  p.  495. 
3  Ibid.  pp.  556-63. 


42  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

doubt  that  French  credit  would  have  attained  the  English 
level.1 

Then  came  the  democratic  Republic  of  1848.  It  lasted 
for  three  years,  and  in  those  three  years  France  increased 
her  debt  more  than  in  the  twenty-five  years  between  1823 
and  1848.  In  1852,  when  the  Empire  began,  the  debt-charge 
was  about  231  millions  of  francs.  The  French  debt  was 
now  a  little  less  than  a  third  of  that  of  England.2 

During  many  years  of  the  Second  Empire  the  wealth  of 
France  increased  perhaps  more  rapidly  than  in  any  other 
period  of  her  history.  Much  of  this  prosperity  was,  no 
doubt,  due  to  the  astonishing  impulse  then  given  to  all  forms 
of  production  by  Californian  and  Australian  gold,  but  much 
also  was  due  to  the  sagacious  energy  with  which  the 
Government  assisted  material  development.  The  railway 
system,  which  had  been  very  insufficiently  developed  under 
Louis  Philippe,  was  now  brought  to  great  perfection.  A 
policy  of  judicious  free  trade  immensely  stimulated  industry, 
and  nearly  every  kind  of  enterprise  was  assisted  by  the 
Government.  Vast  sums  were  expended,  and  usually  with 
singular  intelligence,  on  public  works.  The  Constitution  of 
1852  reserved  to  the  Emperor  the  right  of  authorising  such 
works  by  simple  decree,  and  also  the  right  of  transferring 
the  credits  voted  for  one  department  to  another.  But  it 
was  the  policy  of  the  Emperor  through  his  whole  reign  to 
secure  the  popularity  of  his  government  by  keeping  the 
taxes  low  and  unaltered,  and  meeting  the  growing  expendi- 
ture by  constant  loans.  Almost  the  whole  cost  of  the 
Crimean  War,  the  Italian  War,  and  the  Mexican  expedition, 
and  also  an  immense  part  of  the  habitual  expenditure  of  the 
Government  in  times  of  peace,  were  raised  in  this  way.  The 
extravagance  of  this  system  was  in  part  concealed  by  the 
complexity  of  French  financial  administration,  under  which 
several  distinct  budgets  were  usually  put  forward  in  a  year, 
and  also  by  the  device  of  a  very  large  floating  debt.  One  of 
the  most  important  steps  taken  under  the  Empire  was  the 
introduction  of  a  new  system  of  raising  loans.     Instead  of 

1  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  des  Finances,  ii.  563-64.  -  Ibid.  p.  564. 


HISTORY   OF  FRENCH   FINANCE  43 

appealing  to  a  few  great  capitalists,  the  Emperor  threw  open 
the  loans  by  direct  subscription  to  the  whole  nation,  dividing 
them  in  such  small  portions  that  nearly  all  classes  could  afford 
to  subscribe.  There  is  much  difference  of  opinion  about  the 
economical  advantages  of  this  plan,  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  of  its  extreme  popularity.  The  small  Government 
bonds  were  eagerly  taken  up,  and  loans  became  as  popular  as 
taxes  were  unpopular.  There  can  also  be  no  doubt  that,  by 
interesting  an  immense  portion  of  the  people  in  the  security 
of  the  national  debt,  the  new  system  greatly  improved  the 
national  credit  and  strengthened  the  conservative  element 
in  France.  It  was  computed  that  in  1830  there  were  at  the 
utmost  not  more  than  125,000  persons  in  France  holding 
portions  of  the  national  debt.  In  1869  the  number  had 
probably  risen  to  between  700,000  and  800,000,  and  in  1881 
it  is  believed  to  have  been  more  than  4,000,000.  Either  in 
this  way  or  as  owners  of  land  the  great  majority  of  the 
heads  of  families  in  France  had  a  direct  interest  in  the 
prosperity  of  the  State.1 

The  system  of  government  under  the  Second  Empire, 
and  especially  in  its  first  ten  or  twelve  years,  deserves  more 
careful  and  impartial  examination  than  it  is  likely  to  receive 
from  the  generation  which  witnessed  the  catastrophes  of  the 
Franco-German  War.  It  was  a  government  with  no  real 
constitutional  freedom,  no  liberty  of  the  press,  no  liberty  of 
public  meeting.  It  sheltered  or  produced  great  corruption, 
and  repressed  with  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  violence  political 
opponents.  It  was  detested  by  the  educated  classes,  by  the 
minority  of  the  population  who  seriously  cared  for  political 
freedom,  and,  in  spite  of  the  enormous  sums  that  were 
expended  in  public  works  in  Paris,  it  never  succeeded  in 
winning  the  affections  of  the  Parisian  workmen.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  theory  of  paternal  government  exercised  in 
a  thoroughly  democratic  spirit  had  probably  never  before 
been  carried  out  with  equal  energy  and  intelligence.  The 
Emperor  continually  looked  for  his  support  to  the  great  in- 

1  Leroy-JJeaulieu,  Ijci  Science  des  Finances,  ii.  5(1-4-70. 


44  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

articulate  masses  of  his  people.  To  promote  their  immediate 
material  well-being  was  the  first  object  of  his  policy.  No 
preceding  Government  had  done  so  much  to  stimulate 
industry  in  all  its  forms,  to  develop  latent  resources,  and  to 
provide  constant  and  remunerative  employment.  For  many 
years  he  succeeded  in  an  eminent  degree,1  and  there  is  very 
little  doubt  that  the  last  plebiscite  which  sanctioned  his  rule 
reflected  the  real  feelings  of  the  numerical  majority  of 
Frenchmen.  If  100,000  more  French  soldiers  had  been 
present  on  the  field  of  Worth,  and  if  the  French  com- 
mander had  happened  to  be  a  man  of  genius,  it  is  very 
possible  that  the  Empire  might  have  existed  to  the  present 
day. 

M.  Leroy-Beaulieu  calculates  that  in  the  beginning  of 
1870 — the  year  of  the  war — the  interest  of  the  consolidated 
debt  was  about  129  millions  of  francs,  or  about  5,160,000 
pounds  sterling  more  than  it  had  been  in  1852,  when  the 
Emperor  ascended  the  throne.  The  whole  debt-charge  was 
360  millions  of  francs.  It  represented  a  nominal  capital  of 
rather  less  than  twelve  milliards  of  francs,  or  480  millions  of 
pounds  ;  and  there  was  in  addition  a  floating  debt,  which  at 
the  beginning  of  1870  had  been  recently  reduced  to  some- 
what less  than  thirty-two  millions  of  pounds.2 

But  the  Empire  bequeathed  to  the  Republic  which  followed 
it  an  appalling  legacy.  France  was  compelled  to  pay  Ger- 
many an  indemnity  of  200  millions  of  pounds,  and  her  own 
war  expenses  were  only  a  very  few  millions  below  that  sum. 
Nearly  the  whole  of  these  colossal  sums  were  raised  by  loans 
between  1870  and  1874,  and  added  to  the  permanent  capital 
of  the  debt. 

The  French  debt  had  now  greatly  outstripped  the 
English  one.  In  the  early  years  of  the  Republic,  and 
especially   during   the   ascendency   of    M.    Thiers,   French 

1  Full  particulars  about  the  industrial  and  financial  history  of  the  first  ten 
years  of  the  Empire  will  be  found  in  a  very  able  book,  published  in  1862,  called 
Ten  Years  of  Imperialism  in  France,  by  '  A  Flaneur.'  The  writer  had  evidently 
access  to  the  best  sources  of  information. 

*  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  des  Finances,  ii.  570 ;  Chaudordy,  La  France 
en  1889,  pp.  52-53. 


HISTORY   OF   FRENCH   FINANCE  45 

finances  appear  to  have  been  managed  with  economy  and 
skill.  But  in  1878  a  new  system  of  prodigality  began  which 
far  exceeded  that  of  the  Second  Empire,  and  which  appears 
to  have  continued  to  the  present  time.  A  few  plain  figures 
will  place  the  situation  before  the  reader.  The  nominal 
value  of  the  debt  of  France  according  to  the  Budget  of  1892 
was  about  thirty-two  milliards  of  francs,  or  1,280  millions  of 
pounds.  The  annual  debt-charge  was  about  1,000,250,000 
francs,  or  fifty  million  pounds — about  double  the  present 
interest  of  the  debt  of  Great  Britain  ;  and  in  the  twelve  years 
of  perfect  peace  from  1881  to  1892  France  increased  her  debt 
by  more  than  five  milliards  of  francs,  or  200  millions  of  pounds 
— a  sum  equal  to  the  whole  war  indemnity  which  she  had 
been  obliged  to  pay  to  Germany  after  the  war  of  1870. ' 
And  this  debt  is  irrespective  of  the  large  and  rapidly  growing 
debts  of  the  communes  and  municipalities. 

A  great  part  of  it  was,  no  doubt,  incurred  for  military 
purposes.  The  creation  of  a  magnificent  army  ;  the  fortifi- 
cation of  a  country  which  the  loss  of  Strasburg  and  Metz 
had  left  very  vulnerable,  and  the  formation  of  a  vast  and 
costly  navy,  which  was  probably  intended  to  intimidate  Italy 
and  overbalance  the  power  of  England  in  the  Mediterranean, 
account  for  much.  Much,  too,  was  due  to  the  great  energy 
with  which  the  French  Republic  has  pushed  on  the  work  of 
national  education  ;  and  the  expense  of  this  work  was  enor- 
mously increased  by  the  anti-ecclesiastical  spirit  which 
insisted  on  building  fresh  schoolhouses  where  ecclesiastical 
schools  were  abundantly  supplied,  and  which  refused  to 
make  any  use  of  the  great  voluntary  institutions  established 
by  the  Church.  But,  in  addition  to  these  things,  there  has 
been  another  great  source  of  expense,  on  which  the  best 
French  economists  dilate  with  unfeigned  alarm.  It  is  the 
enormous  and  wasteful  expenditure  on  public  works  which 
are,  for  the  most  part,  unremunerative ;  which  are  intended, 
by  giving  employment,  to  conciliate  the  working-classes,  and 
which  are  extended  to  every  department,  almost  to  every 

1  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  des  Finances,  ii.  578-81 ;  see.  too,  Martin's 
Statesman's  Year- Book,  1893  (France). 


46  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

commune,  as  a  reward  for  supporting  the  Government. 
Much  of  this  kind  was  done — especially  at  Paris — under 
the  Second  Empire,  but  the  system  never  acquired  the 
enormous  extension  and  extravagance  that  it  has  assumed 
under  the  Republic.  The  name  of  M.  de  Freycinet  is  speci- 
ally attached  to  this  great  development  of  public  works ;  but, 
as  might  be  expected,  it  soon  far  outgrew  the  proportions 
which  its  author  had  originally  assigned  to  it,  though  his 
first  idea  was  to  spend  four  milliards  of  francs,  or  160  millions 
of  pounds,  on  railways  alone.  Very  naturally,  such  a  system 
of  artificial  employment  having  been  started,  it  was  found 
impossible  to  abandon  it.  Very  naturally,  every  locality 
desired  its  share  of  the  beneficence  of  the  Government.  Count- 
less millions  were  squandered,  either  in  purely  Government 
work,  or  in  trebling  or  quadrupling  local  subventions,  or  in 
rendering  gratuitous  public  services  which  had  once  paid 
their  expenses,  or  in  multiplying  inordinately  Government 
posts.  And  the  result  was  that,  at  a  time  when  severe 
economy  was  imperiously  required,  the  Republic  added  to 
its  debt  a  sum  which  was  little,  if  at  all,  less  than  the  expense 
of  the  war  of  1870. l 

We  can  hardly  have  a  more  impressive  illustration  of  the 
truth  that  universal  suffrage  wholly  fails  to  represent  the 
best  qualities  of  a  nation.  No  people  in  their  private  capaci- 
ties are  more  distinguished  than  the  French  for  their  busi- 
ness talent,  for  their  combination  of  intelligent  industry 
with  great  parsimony,  for  the  courage  with  which  in  times 
of  difficulty  they  retrench  their  expenditure.  Yet  few  Govern- 
ments have  been  more  lavishly  and  criminal^  extravagant 
than  those  which  have  emanated  from  universal  suffrage  in 
France. 

The  forms  of  corruption  which  are  practised  in  a  pure 
democracy  are  in  general  far  more  detrimental  to  the  pro- 
sperity of  nations  than  those  which  existed  in  other  days. 
Sinecures,  and  corrupt  pensions,  and  Court  favours,  and  small 

1  See  on  this  subject,  Scherer,  La  Democratic  et  la  France,  pp.  29-33  ; 
Leroy-Beaulieu,  L'Etat  et  ses  Fonctions,  pp.  137-74 ;  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La 
Science  des  Finances,  ii.  277-78 ;  Chaudorcly,  La  France  en  1889,  pp.  54-62. 


CORRUPTION   AND   EXTRAVAGANCE  47 

jobs,  and  the  purchase  of  seats  of  Parliament,  may  all  be 
carried  very  far  without  seriously  burdening  the  national 
revenues.  A  millionaire  may  squander  with  reckless  profu- 
sion his  shillings  and  his  pence,  but  as  long  as  the  main  lines 
of  his  expenditure  are  wisely  ordered  he  will  find  no  great 
difference  at  the  end  of  the  year.  There  are,  it  is  true,  occa- 
sional instances  in  which  the  extravagance  of  an  individual 
or  of  a  Court  may  have  ruined  a  nation.  The  most  amazing 
modern  example  has  been  that  of  Ismail  Pasha,  who,  in  the 
thirteen  years  between  1863  and  1876,  raised  the  Egyptian 
debt  from  a  little  over  three  millions  of  pounds  to  eighty-nine 
millions,  and  who,  mainly  through  his  personal  extravagance 
and  reckless  gambling,  burdened  a  poor  and  struggling  popu- 
lation of  six  million  souls  with  an  annual  payment  for  interest 
of  not  less  than  seven  millions  of  pounds.1  Such  prodigies  of 
colossal  selfishness,  however,  are,  happily,  rare  ;  and  if  the 
world  had  not  come  to  form  a  wholly  false  measure  of  the 
enormity  of  political  crimes,  both  in  rulers  and  subjects,  they 
would  lead  to  something  very  different  from  a  simple  deposition. 
Corrupt  Governments  are  not  necessarily  on  the  whole 
extravagant.  The  great  corruption  which  undoubtedly  pre- 
vailed in  the  French  Government  under  Louis  Philippe 
did  not  prevent  that  Government  from  managing  French 
finances  with  an  economy  which,  in  the  light  of  later 
experience,  can  only  be  regarded  as  admirable.  The  jobs 
and  sinecures  and  pensions  of  the  Irish  Parliament  in  the 
eighteenth  century  were  very  notorious  ;  yet  Irish  statesmen 
truly  said  that  until  the  outbreak  of  the  great  French  war 
Ireland  was  one  of  the  least  taxed  nations,  and  its  Govern- 
ment one  of  the  cheapest  Governments  in  Europe.  These 
kinds  of  corruption  do  much  to  lower  the  character  of  Govern- 
ments and  to  alienate  from  them  the  public  spirit  and  enthu- 
siasm that  should  support  them  ;  but  except  in  very  small 
and  poor  countries  they  seldom  amount  to  a  serious  econo- 
mical evil.  Wars,  overgrown  armaments,  policies  that  shake 
credit  and  plunder  large  classes,  laws  that  hamper  industry, 
the  forms  of  corruption  which  bribe  constituencies  or  classes 
'  Milner's  Egypt,  p.  216. 


48  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

by  great  public  expenditure,  by  lavish,  partial,  unjust  taxa- 
tion— these  are  the  things  that  really  ruin  the  finances  of  a 
nation.  To  most  of  these  evils  unqualified  democracies  are 
especially  liable. 

Modern  Radicalism  is  accustomed  to  dilate  much  upon 
the  cost  to  a  nation  of  endowing  princes  and  supporting  the 
pageantry  of  a  Court.  If  there  be  a  lesson  which  repeated 
and  very  recent  experience  clearly  teaches,  it  is  the  utter  in- 
significance of  such  expenditure,  compared  with  the  cost  of  any 
revolution  which  renders  the  supreme  power  in  a  State  pre- 
carious, lowers  the  national  credit,  drives  out  of  a  country 
great  masses  of  capital,  dislocates  its  industry  and  trade,  or 
gives  a  false  and  extravagant  ply  to  its  financial  policy. 
Brazil  and  Spain  are  poor  countries,  but  the  millions  that 
have  been  lost  to  them  by  revolutions  due  to  the  selfish 
ambition  of  a  few  unprincipled  adventurers  would  have  gone 
far  to  pay  for  all  the  extravagances  of  all  the  Courts  in 
Europe. 

France  can,  no  doubt,  bear  the  burden  of  her  enormous 
debt  better  than  most  countries.  Her  great  natural  advantages, 
her  vast  accumulated  wealth,  the  admirable  industrial  quali- 
ties of  her  people,  the  wide  distribution  among  them  both  of 
landed  property  and  of  portions  of  the  national  debt,  and 
the  fact  that  this  debt  is  mainly  held  within  the  country, 
have  all  contributed  to  the  high  credit  which  she  still  enjoys. 
Great  as  is  her  present  debt,  it  bears  a  much  smaller  pro- 
portion to  her  riches  than  the  English  debt  did  to  the 
revenue  of  Great  Britain  at  the  Peace  of  1815,  than  the 
debts  of  Italy  and  Russia  still  bear  to  their  national  resources. 
No  one  can  doubt  that,  if  a  policy  of  strict  economy  and 
steady  peace  is  pursued  in  France  for  the  coming  half- 
century,  her  finances  will  again  become  very  sound.  Some 
portions  of  her  debt  consist  of  terminable  annuities.  The 
good  credit  which  is  largely  due  to  the  wide  diffusion  of 
the  debt  among  Frenchmen  renders  the  policy  of  conversion 
at  diminished  interest  possible ;  and  in  1950  the  railways  of 
France  will  become  national  property.  A  country  which  was 
able  in  1894  to  convert  without  difficulty  280,000,000/.  of 


THE  FINANCE  OF  THE  REPUBLIC        49 

stock  bearing  4^  per  cent,  interest  into  3|-per-cent.  stock  is 
certainly  in  no  desperate  financial  condition,  and  the  cheapness 
and  abundance  of  money,  while  it  increases  the  temptation  to 
borrow,  diminishes  the  burden  of  debts. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  these  things,  no  serious  French 
economist  can  contemplate  without  alarm  the  gigantic  strides 
with  which  both  her  debt  and  her  taxation  have  of  late  years 
advanced.  Such  men  well  know  that  few  national  diseases  are 
more  insidious  in  their  march,  more  difficult  to  arrest,  more 
disastrous  in  their  ultimate  consequences.  The  immediate 
stimulus  to  employment  given  by  a  new  loan  masks  its 
ultimate  and  permanent  effects,  and  if  the  interest  alone  is 
paid  out  of  taxation,  the  increase  is  at  first  scarcely  percepti- 
ble. No  one  can  suppose  that  France  is  destined  for  a  long 
period  to  remain  at  peace,  and  there  is  very  little  prospect  of 
serious  retrenchment  in  her  internal  affairs.  A  policy  which 
would  involve  greatly  diminished  expenditure  in  public 
works,  and,  at  the  same  time,  considerable  increase  of  taxa- 
tion, can  never  be  popular  with  the  great  uninstructed 
masses,  on  whose  votes  all  French  Governments  now  depend. 
Few  Governments  would  venture  to  propose  it,  and  least  of 
all  feeble,  transitory,  and  precarious  Governments,  like  those 
which  have  existed  in  France  since  1870.  Such  Govern- 
ments necessarily  take  short  views,  and  look  eagerly  for 
immediate  support.  All  the  lines  of  policy  that  are  most 
fitted  to  appeal  to  the  imagination  and  win  the  favour  of 
an  uninstructed  democracy  are  lines  of  policy  involving 
increased  expenditure,  and  the  whole  tendency  of  European 
democracy  is  towards  enlarging  the  functions  and  burdens 
of  the  State.  When  great  sections  of  the  people  have 
come  habitually  to  look  to  Government  for  support,  it 
becomes  impossible  to  withdraw,  and  exceedingly  difficult  to 
restrict,  that  support.  Public  works  which  are  undertaken 
through  political  motives,  and  which  private  enterprise 
would  refuse  to  touch,  are  scarcely  ever  remunerative.  On 
the  other  hand,  nothing  can  be  more  certain  than  that  the 
evil  of  excessive  taxation  is  not  merely  to  be  measured  by 
the  amount  which  is  directly  taken  from  the  taxpayer ;    its 

vol.  1.  e 


50  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

indirect,  remote  consequences  are  much  more  serious  than 
its  direct  ones.  Industries  which  are  too  heavily  weighted 
can  no  longer  compete  with  those  of  countries  where  they 
are  more  lightly  taxed.  Industries  and  capital  both  emigrate 
to  quarters  where  they  are  less  burdened  and  more  pro- 
ductive. The  credit  which  a  nation  enjoys  on  the  Stock 
exchange  is  a  deceptive  test,  for  the  finance  of  the  market 
seldom  looks  beyond  the  prospect  of  a  few  years.  A  false 
security  grows  up,  until  the  nation  at  last  slowly  finds  that  it 
has  entered  irretrievably  on  the  path  of  decadence. 

It  is  scarcely  to  be  expected,  under  the  conditions  I  have 
described,  that  the  tone  of  public  life  should  be  very  high. 
The  disclosures  that  followed  the  Panama  scandals,  though 
the  most  startling,  were  by  no  means  the  only  signs  that 
have  thrown  ominous  light  on  this  subject.  Scherer,  in  an 
admirable  work,  has  described  in  detail  the  action  of  the 
present  system  on  French  political  life.  Nearly  every 
deputy,  he  says,  enters  the  Chamber  encumbered  with  many 
promises  to  individuals ;  the  main  object  of  his  policy  is 
usually  to  secure  his  re-election  after  four  years,  and  the 
methods  by  which  this  may  be  done  are  well  known.  There 
is  the  branch  line  of  railroad  which  must  be  obtained  for  the 
district ;  there  is  the  fountain  that  should  be  erected  in  the 
public  place  ;  there  is,  perhaps,  even  the  restoration  of  the 
parish  church  to  be  effected.  But  it  is  not  less  important 
that  all  public  offices  which  carry  with  them  any  local 
influence  should  be  in  the  hands  of  his  supporters.  He 
therefore  at  once  puts  pressure  on  the  Government,  which 
usually  purchases  his  support  by  giving  him  the  patronage 
he  desires.  There  is  a  constant  shifting  in  the  smaller  local 
offices.  Never,  it  is  said,  were  there  so  many  dismissals  and 
changes  in  these  offices  as  during  the  Republic ;  and  they 
have  been  mainly  due  to  the  desire  of  the  deputies  to  make 
room  for  their  supporters  or  their  children.  The  idea  that  a 
vote  is  a  personal  favour,  establishing  a  claim  to  a  personal 
reward,  has  rapidly  spread.  At  the  same  time,  any  vote  in 
favour  of  public  works,  and  especially  public  works  in  his 
own  constituency ;  any  reorganisation  that  tends  to  increase 


FRENCH   FOREIGN    POLICY  5 1 

the  number  of  rrien  in  Government  employment,  increases 
the  popularity  of  the  deputy.  The  socialistic  spirit  takes 
different  forms  in  different  countries,  and  this  is  the  form  it 
seems  specially  adopting  in  France.  The  old  idea,  that  the 
representative  Chamber  is  pre-eminently  a  check  upon  extra- 
vagance, a  jealous  guardian  of  the  public  purse,  seems  to 
have  almost  vanished  in  democratic  countries,  and  nowhere 
more  completely  than  in  France.  In  the  words  of  Leon 
Say,  a  great  proportion  of  the  deputies  are,  beyond  all 
things,  '  agents  for  instigating  to  expense,'  seeking  to  secure 
a  livelihood  out  of  the  public  taxes  for  the  greatest  possible 
number  of  their  electors.  The  electoral  committee,  or,  as 
we  should  say,  the  local  caucus,  governs  the  deputy,  who, 
in  his  turn,  under  the  system  of  small  parliamentary  groups 
and  weak  and  perpetually  fluctuating  ministries,  exercises  an 
exaggerated  influence  on  the  Administration.1 

"We  may,  in  the  last  place,  ask  whether  democracy  has 
given  France  a  nobler  and  more  generous  foreign  policy. 
French  writers  have  often  claimed  for  their  country  that, 
more  than  any  other,  it  has  been  governed  by  '  ideas  ;  '  that 
it  has  been  the  chief  torchbearer  of  civilisation  ;  that  French 
public  opinion  is  pre-eminently  capable  of  rising  above  the 
limits  of  a  narrow  patriotism  in  order  to  support,  popularise, 
and  propagate  movements  of  cosmopolitan  liberalism.  These 
cosmopolitan  sympathies,  it  must  be  owned,  sometimes  fade 
into  Utopia,  and  lead  to  a  neglect  of  the  duties  of  a  rational 
patriotism  ;  and  not  unfrequently  they  have  either  disguised, 
or  served,  or  ended  in,  designs  of  very  selfish  military  aggran- 
disement. Still,  no  impartial  student  will  deny  that  France 
has  for  a  long  period  represented  in  an  eminent  degree  the 
progressive  element  in  European  civilisation  ;  that  her  great 
influence  has  usually  been  thrown  into  the  scale  of  freedom, 
enlightenment,  and  tolerance.  Can  this  noble  position  be 
now  claimed  for  her?  Can  it  be  denied  that  a  policy  of 
rancour  and  revenge  has,  in  the  later  phases  of  her  history, 
made  her  strangely  false  to  the  nobler  instincts  of  her  past  ? 
Let  the  reader  follow,  in  the  work  of  Sir  Alfred  Milner,  the 

1  Scherer,  La  Drmocratie  ct  la  France,  pp.  22-38. 

k  2 


52  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

account  of  the  way  in  which,  through  very  unworthy 
motives,  she  has  obstructed  in  Egypt  all  those  reforms 
which  were  manifestly  necessary  to  relieve  the  misery  of 
the  Egyptian  fellah.  Or,  let  him  take  a  more  conspicuous 
instance,  and  study  that  most  hideous  story  of  our  century — 
the  Russian  persecution  of  the  Jews — and  then  remember 
that  it  was  on  the  morrow  of  this  persecution  that  the 
French  democracy  threw  itself,  in  a  transport  of  boundless, 
unqualified  enthusiasm,  into  the  arms  of  Russia,  and  declared 
by  all  its  organs  that  French  and  Russian  policies  were  now 
identified  in  the  world.  Few  sadder,  yet  few  more  significant 
spectacles  have  been  witnessed  in  our  time  than  this  enthu- 
siastic union,  in  1893,  of  the  chief  democracy  of  Europe 
with  its  one  great  persecuting  despotism.  Could  there  be  a 
more  eloquent  lesson  on  the  tendencies  of  democracy  than 
was  furnished  by  the  joyous  and  almost  puerile  delight  with 
which  France  identified  herself  with  the  cause  of  reaction, 
and  resigned  to  others  her  old  supremacy  in  European 
liberalism?  What  a  change  since  the  days  when  George 
Sand  heralded  the  triumph  of  democracy,  in  1848,  as  intro- 
ducing, by  the  initiative  of  France,  a  new  era  of  progress 
and  enlightenment  among  mankind ;  since  Michelet  described 
France  as  the  armed  sentinel  of  Europe,  guarding  its  civili- 
sation against  the  barbarians  of  the  North  ;  since  Lamartine, 
in  lines  of  exquisite  beauty,  proclaimed  the  cosmopolitan 
fraternity  which  was  soon  to  make  patriotism  itself  an  obso- 
lete sentiment,  too  narrow  and  too  harsh  for  a  regenerated 
humanity ! 

Nations  !  Mot  pornpeux  pour  dire  barbarie  ! 

L'amour  s'arrete-t-il  ou  s'arretent  vos  pas  '? 

Dechirez  ces  drapeaux,  Tine  autre  voix  vous  crie  : 

L'egoisme  et  la  haine  ont  seuls  une  patrie, 

La  Fraternite  n'en  a  pas.1 

The  conditions  of  American  democracy  are  essentially 
different  from  those  of  democracy  in  France,  and  the  effects 
of  this  great  experiment  in  government  must  be  profoundly 
interesting  to  every  serious  political  inquirer.    I  have  already 

1  '  La  Marseillaise  de  la  Paix.' 


AMERICAN   AND   ENGLISH   DEMOCRACY  53 

referred  briefly  to  its  character.  It  would  be  impossible  in 
a  book  like  the  present,  it  would  be  presumptuous  on  the 
part  of  a  stranger,  and  after  the  great  works  which,  in  the 
present  generation,  have  been  written  on  the  subject,  to 
attempt  to  give  a  full  account  of  the  workings  of  American 
democracy,  but  a  few  salient  facts  may  be  gathered  which 
will  throw  much  light  upon  my  present  subject. 

One  of  the  chief  errors  of  English  political  writers  of  the 
last  generation  in  dealing  with  this  topic  arose  from  their 
very  superficial  knowledge  of  American  institutions,  which 
led  them  to  believe  that  the  American  Government  was 
generically  of  the  same  kind  as  the  Government  of  England, 
the  chief  difference  being  that  a  majority  of  the  people  could 
always  carry  out  their  will  with  more  prompt,  decisive,  un- 
restrained efficiency.  The  English  public  have  at  last,  it  may 
be  hoped,  learned  to  perceive  that  this  notion  is  radically 
false.  In  England,  a  simple  majority  of  Parliament  is  capa- 
ble, with  the  assent  of  the  Crown,  of  carrying  out  any  con- 
stitutional change,  however  revolutionary ;  and  the  House 
of  Commons,  in  practice,  has  absorbed  to  itself  all  the  main 
power  in  the  Constitution.  A  chance  majority,  formed  out 
of  many  different  political  fractions,  acting  through  different 
motives,  and  with  different  objects,  may  change  fundamentally 
the  Constitution  of  the  country.  The  Koyal  veto  has  become 
wholly  obsolete.  The  Royal  power  under  all  normal  circum- 
stances is  exercised  at  the  dictation  of  a  ministry  which  owes 
its  being  to  the  majority  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  if 
the  Crown  can  occasionally  exercise  some  independent  poli- 
tical influence,  it  can  only  be  in  rare  and  exceptional  circum- 
stances, or  in  indirect  and  subordinate  ways.  The  House  of 
Lords  has,  it  is  true,  greater  power,  and  can  still,  by  a  sus- 
pensive veto,  delay  great  changes  until  they  are  directly 
sanctioned  by  the  constituencies  at  an  election.  But  after 
such  sanction  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  such  changes  should 
be  resisted,  however  narrow  may  be  the  majorities  in  their 
favour,  however  doubtful  may  be  the  motives  by  which  these 
majorities  were  obtained. 

In  America  the  position  of  the  House  of  Representatives 


54  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

is  widely  different  from  that  of  the  House  of  Commons.  It 
is  a  body  in  which  the  ministers  do  not  sit,  and  which  has 
no  power  of  making  or  destroying  a  ministry.  It  is  con- 
fronted by  a  Senate  which  does  not  rest  on  the  democratic 
basis  of  mere  numbers,  but  which  can  exercise  a  much  more 
real  restraining  power  than  the  House  of  Lords.  It  is 
confronted  also  by  a  President  who  is  himself  chosen 
ultimately  by  manhood  suffrage,  but  in  a  different  way  from 
the  House  of  Representatives,  and  who  exercises  an  indepen- 
dent power  vastly  greater  than  a  modern  British  sovereign. 
It  is,  above  all,  restricted  by  a  written  Constitution  under  the 
protection  of  a  great,  independent  law  court,  which  makes  it 
impossible  for  it  to  violate  contracts,  or  to  infringe  any 
fundamental  liberty  of  the  people,  or  to  carry  any  constitu- 
tional change,  except  when  there  is  the  amplest  evidence 
that  it  is  the  clear,  settled  wish  of  an  overwhelming  majority 
of  the  people.  No  amendment  of  the  Federal  Constitution 
can  be  even  proposed  except  by  the  vote  of  two-thirds  of 
both  Houses  of  Congress,  or  of  an  application  from  the 
legislatures  of  two-thirds  of  the  several  States.  No  amend- 
ment of  the  Federal  Constitution  can  become  law  unless  it  is 
ratified,  in  three-quarters  of  the  States,  by  both  Houses  in  the 
local  legislatures,  or  by  conventions  specially  summoned 
for  that  purpose.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  all  amendments 
of  the  Federal  Constitution  have  been  ratified  by  the  State 
legislatures ;  none  of  them  have  been  submitted  to  conven- 
tions. 

Changes  in  the  constitutions  of  the  different  States 
may  be  effected  in  different  ways,  but  never  by  a  simple 
majority  of  a  single  legislature.  In  a  few  States,  it  is  true, 
such  a  majority  may  propose  such  an  amendment ;  but  it 
always  requires  ratification,  either  by  a  popular  vote,  or 
by  a  subsequent  legislature,  or  by  both.  In  most  States 
majorities  of  two-thirds  or  three-fifths  are  required  for  the 
simple  proposal  of  a  constitutional  amendment,  and  in  a 
large  number  of  cases  majorities  of  two-thirds,  or  three- 
quarters,  or  three-fifths,  are  required  for  the  ratification. 
There   is  usually,   however,  a  second  method  provided  for 


AMERICAN   RESTRICTIONS   OF   DEMOCRACY  55 

revising  or  amending  a  State  constitution,  by  means  of  a 
convention  which  is  specially  called  for  this  purpose,  and 
which  proposes  changes  that  must  be  subsequently  ratified 
by  a  popular  vote.1 

The  American  Constitution,  indeed,  was  framed  by  men 
who  had  for  the  most  part  the  strongest  sense  of  the  dangers 
of  democracy.  The  school  of  American  thought  which  was 
represented  in  a  great  degree  by  Washington  and  John 
Adams,  and  still  more  emphatically  by  Gouverneur  Morris 
and  Alexander  Hamilton ;  which  inspired  the  Federalist 
and  was  embodied  in  the  Federalist  party,  was  utterly 
opposed  to  the  schools  of  Rousseau,  of  Paine,  and  even  of 
Jefferson,  and  it  has  largely  guided  American  policy  to  the 
present  hour.  It  did  not  prevent  America  from  becoming  a 
democracy,  but  it  framed  a  form  of  government  under 
which  the  power  of  the  democracy  was  broken  and  divided, 
restricted  to  a  much  smaller  sphere,  and  attended  with  far 
less  disastrous  results  than  in  most  European  countries. 
Hamilton,  who  was  probably  the  greatest  political  thinker 
America  has  produced,  was,  in  the  essentials  of  his  political 
thought,  quite  as  conservative  as  Burke,  and  he  never  con- 
cealed his  preference  for  monarchical  institutions.  Demo- 
cratic government,  he  believed,  must  end  in  despotism,  and 
be  in  the  meantime  destructive  to  public  morality  and  to 
the  security  of  private  property.2 

To  the  eminent  wisdom  of  the  Constitution  of  1787 
much  of  the  success  of  American  democracy  is  due ;  but 
much  also  must  be  attributed  to  the  singularly  favourable 
circumstances  under  which  this  great  experiment  has  been 
tried.  A  people  sprung  mainly  from  an  excellent  British 
stock,  and  inheriting  all  the  best  habits  and  traditions  of 
British  constitutional  government,  found  themselves  in 
possession  of  a  territory  almost  boundless  in  its  extent  and 
its  resources,  and  free  from  the  most  serious  dangers  that 

1  A  detailed  account  of  the  methods  of  changing  the  State  constitutions 
will  be  found  in  a  Report  on  the  Majorities  required  in  Foreign  Legislatures  for 
changes  in  the  constitution,  presented  to  the  House  of  Lords,  April  1893. 

-  Van  Buren,  Political  Parties  in  the  United  States,  pp.  80,  83. 


56  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

menace  European  nations.  The  habits  of  local  government, 
the  spirit  of  compromise  and  self-reliance,  the  strong  moral 
basis  which  Puritanism  never  fails  to  establish,  were  all 
there,  and  during  a  great  portion  of  American  history 
emigration  was  attended  with  so  many  hardships  that  few 
men  who  did  not  possess  more  than  average  energy  and 
resource  sought  the  American  shore.  At  the  same  time  a 
vast  unpopulated,  undeveloped  country  opened  limitless 
paths  of  adventure,  ambition,  and  lucrative  labour,  dispersed 
many  peccant  humours,  attracted  and  employed  much 
undisciplined  and  volcanic  energy  which,  in  other  countries, 
would  have  passed  into  politics  and  bred  grave  troubles  in 
the  State.  The  immense  preponderance  of  industrialism 
in  American  life  is,  indeed,  one  of  its  most  characteristic 
features,  and  its  influence  on  politics  has  been  by  no  means 
wholly  good.  It  has  contributed,  with  other  causes,  to  place 
political  life  on  a  lower  plane,  diverting  from  it  the  best 
energies  of  the  country ;  but  it  has  also  furnished  great 
safety-valves  for  discontented  spirits  and  unregulated  ambi- 
tions. The  country  was  so  situated  that  it  was  almost 
absolutely  self-supporting,  and  had  no  foreign  danger  to  fear. 
It  might  almost  dispense  with  a  foreign  policy.  It  required 
no  considerable  army  or  war  navy  ;  and  it  has  been  able 
steadily  to  devote  to  the  maintenance  of  an  excellent  system 
of  national  education  the  sums  which,  in  less  happily 
situated  countries,  are  required  for  the  purposes  of  self- 
defence.  Although  America  has  experienced  many  periods 
of  acute  commercial  crisis  and  depression,  the  general  level 
of  her  well-being  has  been  unusually  high.  Property  has 
been  from  the  first  very  widely  diffused.  Her  lower  levels 
in  their  standard  of  comfort  more  nearly  resemble  the 
middle  than  the  lowest  class  in  European  countries,  and  the 
great  masses  of  unemployed  pauperism  in  the  large  towns, 
which  form  one  of  the  most  serious  political  and  social 
dangers  of  Europe,  have  been  scarcely  known  in  America 
until  the  present  generation. 

The  chief  steps  by  which  the  Government  has  moved  in 
the  direction  of  democracy  may  be  briefly  mentioned.     Al- 


ELECTION   OF   PRESIDENTS   AND   SENATORS  57 

though  the  Constitution  in  most  respects  realised  the  antici- 
pations of  its  founders,  their  attempt  to  place  the  President 
outside  the  play  of  party  spirit,  and  to  make  him  independent 
of  democratic  dictation,  signally  failed.  The  Constitution 
provided  that  each  State  was  to  choose  a  number  of  presi- 
dential electors  equal  to  its  representatives  in  Congress,  and 
that  these  men  should  be  entrusted  with  the  task  of  electing 
the  President.  In  accordance  with  its  general  policy  on  all 
matters  of  election,  the  Constitution  left  it  to  the  different 
States  to  determine  the  manner  of  election  and  the  qualifica- 
tions of  these  presidential  electors  ;  but  it  enacted  that  no 
member  of  Congress  and  no  holder  of  a  Federal  office  should 
be  eligible.  In  this  manner  it  was  hoped  that  the  President 
might  be  elected  by  the  independent  votes  of  a  small  body 
of  worthy  citizens  who  were  not  deeply  plunged  in  party 
politics.  But,  as  the  spirit  of  party  intensified  and  the  great 
party  organisations  attained  their  maturity,  this  system 
wholly  failed.  Presidential  electors  are  still  elected,  but 
they  are  elected  under  a  distinct  pledge  that  they  will  vote 
for  a  particular  candidate.  At  first  they  were  nearly  every- 
where chosen  on  party  grounds  by  the  State  legislatures. 
Soon  this  process  appeared  insufficiently  democratic,  and 
they  were  chosen  by  direct  manhood  suffrage,  their  sole  duty 
being  to  nominate  the  candidate  who  had  been  selected  by 
the  party  machine. 

In  the  senatorial  elections  the  principle  of  double  election 
has  proved  somewhat  more  enduring ;  but  here,  too,  consi- 
derable transformations  have  taken  place.  The  Senate,  as 
is  well  known,  is  composed  of  two  senators  from  each  State, 
chosen  for  six  years  by  the  State  legislatures,  the  largest  and 
the  smallest  States  being  in  this  respect  on  a  par.  For  a  long 
time  the  mode  of  their  election  varied  greatly.  '  In  some 
States  they  were  chosen  viva  voce  ;  in  others,  by  ballots  ;  in 
some,  by  a  separate  vote  of  each  House  ;  in  others,  by  both 
Houses  meeting  and  voting  as  one  body.' x  By  an  Act  of  1866 
the  method  of  election  has  been  made  uniform,  the  senators 
being  nominated  by  a  viva  voce  vote  in  each  House  ;  and  if 

1  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual,  i.  13-  14. 


58  DEMOCEACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  result  is  not  attained  in  this  manner,  by  a  vote  of  the 
two  Houses  sitting  together.  Very  naturally  and  properly, 
these  are  party  elections ;  but  of  late  years  the  senators 
appear  to  have  been  rarely  what  they  were  intended  to  be — 
the  independent  choice  of  the  State  legislatures.  '  The 
machines,'  or,  in  other  words,  the  organisations  representing 
the  rival  factions  in  each  State,  not  only  return  absolutely 
the  members  of  the  State  legislature,  but  also  designate 
the  rival  candidates  for  the  senatorships  ;  and  the  members 
of  the  State  legislature  are  returned  under  strict  pledges  to 
vote  for  these  designated  candidates.  This  servitude  is  not 
as  absolute  or  universal  as  that  under  which  the  presidential 
elections  are  made,  but  it  has  gone  very  far  to  bring  the 
election  of  senators  under  the  direct  control  of  those  knots 
of  wirepullers  who  rule  all  the  fields  of  American  politics, 
and  direct  and  manage  universal  suffrage.1  In  the  early 
stages  of  its  history,  when  the  States  were  very  few,  the 
Senate  was  a  small  body,  deliberating  in  secret,  and  more 
like  a  Privy  Council  or  a  Cabinet  than  an  Upper  Chamber. 
After  the  first  five  years  of  its  existence  this  system  of  secrecy 
was  abandoned  ;  with  the  multiplication  of  States  the  number 
of  senators  increased ;  and  the  Senate  has  now  the  chief 
characteristics  of  a  legislative  Chamber,  though  it  possesses 
certain  additional  powers  which  are  not  possessed  by  the 
corresponding  bodies  in  Europe. 

The  many  restrictions  on  the  suffrage  by  which  the 
members  of  the  House  of  Representatives  were  elected  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution  have  nearly  all  passed  away,  and 
America  has  all  but  reached  the  point  of  simple  manhood 
suffrage.  Maryland,  in  the  first  decade  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  led  the  way,2  and  the  example  was  speedily  followed. 
The  management,  restriction,  and  extension  of  the  suffrage 
being  left  within  the  almost  complete  competence  of  the 
several  States,  form  the  chief  field  in  which  revolutionary 
change  can  be  easily  effected.  The  Federal  Constitution 
only  imposes  two  restrictions  on  the  competency  of  the  States 

1  See  Bryce's  American  Commonwealth,  i.  131-32. 
-  Tocqueville,  Democratic  en  Amerique,  i.  91. 


EXTENSIONS   OF   THE   SUFFRAGE  59 

to  deal  with  this  subject.  The  first  is,  that  the  electors  for 
representatives  in  each  State  '  shall  have  the  qualifications 
required  for  electors  of  the  most  numerous  branch  of  the 
State  Legislature.'  The  second,  which  was  an  amendment 
of  the  Constitution  introduced  after  the  Civil  War,  and 
carried  at  a  time  when  the  Southern  States  were  still  deprived 
of  their  normal  political  power,  is  that  no  one  may  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  suffrage  '  on  account  of  race,  colour,  or 
previous  condition  of  servitude.'  The  suffrage,  it  is  true,  is 
not  absolutely  universal.  Besides  the  exclusion  of  women, 
children,  criminals,  insane  persons,  and  unnaturalised  immi- 
grants, some  easy  qualifications  of  residence  and  registration 
are  usually  required  ;  but  property  qualifications  have  almost 
wholly  disappeared.  The  actual  possession  of  property  is  no 
longer  required  for  a  voter  in  any  American  election,  with 
the  exception,  it  is  said,  of  the  municipal  elections  in  a  single 
district  of  Rhode  Island.1  A  tax  qualification  existed  in  3880 
in  six  States,  but  it  has  since  then  been  abolished  in  four  of 
them.2  Some  States,  however,  still  exclude  from  the  right 
of  voting  those  who  are  so  illiterate  that  they  are  not  able  to 
read,  and  paupers  who  are  actually  supported  by  the  State. 
With  these  slight  and  partial  exceptions  manhood  suffrage 
generally  prevails. 

As  far  as  I  can  judge,  it  seems  to  have  been  brought 
about  by  much  the  same  means  in  America  as  in  Europe. 
It  has  not  been  in  general  the  result  of  any  spontaneous 
demand,  or  of  any  real  belief  that  it  is  likely  to  improve  the 
Constitution ;  but  it  has  sprung  from  a  competition  for 
power  and  popularity  between  rival  factions.  An  extension 
of  the  franchise  is,  naturally,  a  popular  cry,  and  each  party 
leader  is  therefore  ready  to  raise  it,  and  anxious  that  his 
rival  should  not  monopolise  it.  It  is  a  policy,  too,  which 
requires  no  constructive  ability,  and  is  so  simple  that  it  lies 
well  within  the  competence  of  the  vulgarest  and  most 
ignorant  demagogue.     A  party  out  of  office,  and  doubtful  of 

1  Hart's  Practical  Essays  on  American  Government,  1893,  p.  28.  There  are 
still,  however,  some  cases  in  which  a  property  qualification  is  required  from  an 
otrice-holder.  -   Ibid. 


60  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

its  future  prospects,  naturally  wishes  to  change  the  character 
of  the  electorate,  and  its  leaders  calculate  that  new  voters 
will  vote,  at  all  events  for  the  first  time,  for  the  party  which 
gave  them  their  vote.  We  are  in  England  perfectly 
familiar  with  such  modes  of  conducting  public  affairs,  and 
it  is  probably  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  calculations  of 
this  kind  have  been  the  chief  motives  of  all  our  recent 
degradations  of  the  suffrage.  In  one  important  respect  the 
Federal  system  has  tended  to  strengthen  in  America  the 
democratic  movement.  Each  State  naturally  wishes  to  have 
as  much  power  as  possible  in  the  Confederation,  and  an 
amendment  of  the  Constitution  which  was  forced  through 
during  the  temporary  eclipse  of  the  Southern  States  provides 
that  while,  as  a  general  rule,  representatives  in  Congress  shall 
be  apportioned  among  the  several  States  according  to  their 
populations,  the  basis  of  representation  in  a  State  shall  be 
reduced  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  such  citizens  who 
are  excluded  from  the  suffrage,  '  except  for  participation  in 
rebellion  and  other  crime.' 

The  system  of  popular  election  has  extended  through 
nearly  all  branches  of  American  life.  Perhaps  its  most 
mischievous  application  is  to  the  judicial  posts.  The  inde- 
pendence and  dignity,  it  is  true,  of  the  Federal  judges  are 
protected  by  an  article  of  the  Constitution.  They  can  only 
be  appointed  by  the  President  with  the  consent  of  the 
Senate.  They  hold  their  office  during  good  behaviour  ;  and 
they  possess  salaries  which,  though  small  if  compared  with 
those  of  English  judges,  enable  them  to  support  their  position. 
The  Supreme  Court  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  portions  of 
the  American  Constitution,  and  although  even  its  decisions 
have  not  always  escaped  the  suspicion  of  party  motives,  it  is, 
on  the  whole,  probably  inferior  in  ability  and  character  to  no 
other  judicial  body  on  the  globe.  But  in  the  States  another 
system  has  spread  which  has  both  lowered  and  tainted  the 
administration  of  justice.  As  recently  as  1830  the  judges  in 
the  different  States  owed  their  appointment  to  the  governors, 
or  to  the  State  legislatures,  or  to  a  combination  of  the  two.  In 
1878,  in  no  less  than  twenty-four  States  they  were  elected 


THE   MOLLY  MAGUIRES  6 1 

by  a  popular  vote.1  When  it  is  added  that  they  only  hold 
their  office  for  a  few  years,  that  they  are  capable  of  re-elec- 
tion, and  that  their  salaries  are  extremely  small,  it  will  not 
appear  extraordinary  that  the  judicial  body  in  most  of  these 
States  should  be  destitute  of  the  moral  dignity  which  attaches 
in  England  to  all  its  branches.  Deliberate  personal  cor- 
ruption, which  for  generations  has  been  unknown  among 
English  judges,  has  been  in  some  cases  proved,  and  in 
many  cases  suspected,  in  America,  and  the  belief  that 
in  large  classes  of  cases  judges  will  act  as  mere  partisans 
on  the  bench  has  extended  much  further.  The  prevalence 
of  lynch  law,  which  is  so  strangely  discordant  with  the  high 
civilisation  of  American  life,  is  largely  due  to  that  distrust 
of  justice  in  many  States  which  is  the  direct,  manifest,  ac- 
knowledged consequence  of  the  system  of  popular  election. 

No  one,  indeed,  who  knows  the  class  of  men  who 
are  wirepullers  in  the  different  American  factions  will 
expect  their  nominees  on  the  bench  to  be  distinguished 
either  for  impartiality  or  integrity.  One  of  the  most  extra- 
ordinary instances  of  organised  crime  in  modern  history  is 
furnished  by  the  Molly  Maguires  of  Pennsylvania,  an  Irish 
conspiracy  which,  with  short  intervals,  maintained  a  reign  of 
terror  between  1863  and  1875  in  the  anthracite  coalfields  of 
that  State.  The  innumerable  murders  they  committed  with 
impunity,  and  the  extraordinary  skill  and  daring  of  the  Irish 
detective  who  succeeded  in  penetrating  into  their  councils 
and  at  last  bringing  them  to  justice,  form  a  story  of  most 
dramatic  interest ;  but  one  of  the  most  curious  facts  connected 
with  them  is  the  political  influence  they  appear  to  have 
obtained.  They  controlled  township  affairs  in  several 
districts ;  they  applied  to  their  own  purposes  large  public 
funds ;  they  had  a  great  influence  in  the  management  of 
counties ;  they  were  courted  by  both  political  parties ;  and 
they  only  failed  by  a  few  hundred  votes  in  placing  one  of 
their  body  on  the   judicial  bench.-     I  can  here  hardly  do 

1  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual,  i.  136. 

-  See  that  very  curious  book,  Dewees's  The  Molly  Maguires  (Philadelphia 
1877),  pp.  33,  92-93,  109,  221-29,  290. 


62  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

better  than  quote  the  language  of  Mr.  Bryce,  who,  writing 
with  ample  knowledge  of  the  subject,  is  evidently  desirous  of 
minimising  as  much  as  possible  the  importance  of  the  facts 
which  he  honestly  but  reluctantly  relates. 

'  In  a  few  States,'  he  writes,  '  perhaps  six  or  seven  in  all, 
suspicion  has  at  one  time  or  another,  within  the  last  twenty 
years,  attached  to  one  or  more  of  the  superior  judges. 
Sometimes  these  suspicions  may  have  been  ill-founded. 
But  though  I  know  of  only  one  case  in  which  they  have 
been  substantiated,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  in  several 
instances  improprieties  have  been  committed.  The  judge 
may  not  have  taken  a  bribe,  but  he  has  perverted  justice  at 
the  instance  of  some  person  or  persons  who  either  gave 
him  a  consideration  or  exercised  an  undue  influence  over 
him.  ...  I  have  never  heard  of  a  State  in  which  more 
than  two  or  three  judges  were  the  object  of  distrust  at  the 
same  time.  In  one  State,  viz.  New  York,  in  1869-71  there 
were  flagrant  scandals,  which  led  to  the  disappearance  of 
three  justices  of  the  superior  court  who  had  unquestionably 
both  sold  and  denied  justice.  The  Tweed  ring,  when 
engaged  in  plundering  the  city  treasury,  found  it  convenient 
to  have  in  the  seat  of  justice  accomplices  who  might 
check  inquiry  into  their  misdeeds.  This  the  system  of 
popular  election  for  very  short  terms  enabled  them  to  do, 
and  men  were  accordingly  placed  on  the  bench  whom  one 
might  rather  have  expected  to  see  in  the  dock — bar-room 
loafers,  broken-down  attorneys,  needy  adventurers — whose 
want  of  character  made  them  absolutely  dependent  on  these 
patrons.  .  .  .  They  did  not  regard  social  censure,  for  they 
were  already  excluded  from  decent  society ;  impeachment 
had  no  terrors  for  them,  since  the  State  legislatures,  as  well 
as  the  executive  machinery  of  the  city,  was  in  the  hands  of 
their  masters.  ...  To  what  precise  point  of  infamy  they 
descended  I  cannot  attempt,  among  so  many  discordant 
stories  and  rumours,  to  determine.  It  is,  however,  beyond 
a  doubt  that  they  made  orders  in  defiance  of  the  plainest 
rules  of  practice  ;  issued  in  rum-shops  injunctions  which 
they  had  not  even  read  over ;  appointed  notorious  vagabonds 


JUDICIAL   CORRUPTION  63 

receivers  of  valuable  property ;  turned  over  important  cases 
to  a  friend  of  their  own  stamp,  and  gave  whatever  decision 
he  suggested.  ...  A  system  of  client  robbery  sprang  up, 
by  which  each  judge  enriched  the  knot  of  disreputable 
lawyers  who  surrounded  him.  He  referred  cases  to  them, 
granted  them  monstrous  allowances  in  the  name  of  costs, 
gave  them  receiverships  with  a  large  percentage,  and  so 
forth,  they  in  turn  either  sharing  the  booty  with  him,  or 
undertaking  to  do  the  same  for  him  when  he  should  have 
descended  to  the  Bar  and  they  have  climbed  to  the  Bench. 
Nor  is  there  any  doubt  that  criminals  who  had  any  claim 
on  their  party  often  managed  to  elude  punishment  .  .  .  for 
governor,  judge,  attorney,  officials,  and  police,  were  all  of  them 
party  nominees.  ...  In  the  instance  which  made  much  noise 
in  Europe — that  of  the  Erie  Railroad  suits — there  was  no  need 
to  give  bribes.  The  gang  of  thieves  who  had  gained  control 
of  the  line  and  were  '  watering  '  the  stock  were  leagued  with 
the  gang  of  thieves  who  ruled  the  city  and  nominated  the 
judges,  and  nobody  doubts  that  the  monstrous  decisions  in 
these  suits  were  obtained  by  the  influence  of  the  Tammany 
leaders  over  their  judicial  minions.'  ' 

Such  is  the  state  of  things  which  flourished  a  few  years 
ago  in  full  exuberance  in  the  capital  of  the  great  democracy 
of  the  West,  and  among  a  people  who  claim  to  be  in  the 
front  rank  of  civilisation,  and  to  have  furnished  the  supreme 
pattern  of  the  democracies  of  the  future.  Mr.  Bryce  does 
all  that  is  in  his  power  to  soften  the  picture.  He  be- 
lieves that  the  corrupt  judges  are  only  a  small  minority  in 
a  few  States,  and  that  there  is  no  evidence  that  even  the 
New  York  judges,  in  ordinary  commercial  cases,  where  no 
political  interest  came  into  play,  and  where  the  influence 
of  particular  persons  was  not  exerted,  decided  unjustly  or 
'  took  direct  money  bribes  from  one  of  the  parties.'  He 
also  takes  a  long  historical  flight  over  nearly  three  thou- 
sand years  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  parallel  enormities. 
Hesiod  complained  of  kings  who  received  gifts  to  influence 
their   decisions.     Felix    expected  money    for  releasing    St. 

1  Bryce's  American  Commonwealth,  iii.  394-99. 


64  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Paul.  Among  the  great  despotisms  of  the  East  judicial 
corruption  has  always  been  common.  In  a  single  instance 
since  the  Bev£>lution  an  English  chancellor  was  found  to 
have  taken  bribes ;  and  in  some  of  the  more  backward 
countries  of  Europe  '  the  judges,  except,  perhaps,  those  of 
the  highest  court,  are  not  assumed  by  general  opinion  to  be 
above  suspicion.' 

Such  arguments  may  be  left  to  stand  on  their  own 
merits.  Of  all  the  many  functions  which  government  is 
expected, to  discharge,  the  most  important  to  the  happiness 
of  mankind  is  that  of  securing  equal  justice  between  man 
and  man.  No  statesmen  were  more  conscious  of  this  truth 
than  the  great  men  who  framed  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  ;  and,  under  the  conditions  of  their  time,  they 
probably  provided  for  it  almost  as  perfectly  as  human 
prescience  could  have  done.  It  would  be  a  grave  injustice 
to  the  American  people  to  suppose  that  they  were  not 
in  general  a  law-abiding  people  :  they  have  more  than  once 
suppressed  disorder  in  the  States  with  an  unflinching  energy 
and  a  truly  merciful  promptness  of  severity  which  English 
Administrations  might  well  imitate  ;  and  over  a  great  part 
of  the  States  honest  justice  is  undoubtedly  administered. 
But  no  one,  I  think,  can  follow  American  history  without 
perceiving  how  frequently  and  seriously  the  democratic 
principle  has  undermined  this  first  condition  of  true  freedom 
and  progress.  As  Mill  justly  says,  the  tyranny  of  the 
majority  is  not  only  shown  in  tyrannical  laws.  Sometimes 
it  is  shown  in  an  assumed  power  to  dispense  with  all  laws 
which  run  counter  to  the  popular  opinion  of  the  hour. 
Sometimes  it  appears  in  corrupt,  tainted,  partial  adminis- 
tration of  existing  laws.  Tyranny  seldom  assumes  a  more 
odious  form  than  when  judges,  juries,  and  executives  are 
alike  the  tools  of  a  faction  or  a  mob. 

Closely  connected  with  this  great  abuse  has  been  the 
system  of  treating  all  the  smaller  posts  and  offices,  both 
under  the  Federal  and  the  State  governments,  as  rewards 
for  party  services,  and  changing  the  occupants  with  each 
change     of     political    power.       This     is    the     well-known 


THE   SPOILS  SYSTEM  65 

1  spoils  system,'  and  it  has  permeated  and  corrupted 
American  public  life  to  its  very  roots.  It  did  not  exist  in 
the  early  days  of  the  Republic.  Washington,  in  the  eight 
years  of  his  presidency,  only  removed  nine  officials,  and  all 
for  definite  causes.  John  Adams  made  the  same  number  of 
changes.  Jefferson  made  thirty-nine ;  and  the  three  Presidents 
who  followed  only  removed  sixteen  in  the  space  of  twenty 
years.  John  Quincy  Adams,  the  last  of  this  line  of  Presi- 
dents, was  in  this  respect  scrupulously  just.  '  As  he  was 
about  the  last  President,'  writes  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith, 
'  chosen  for  merit,  not  for  availability,  so  he  was  about  the 
last  whose  only  rule  was  not  party,  but  the  public  service. 
So  strictly  did  he  preserve  the  principle  of  permanency  and 
purity  in  the  Civil  Service,  that  he  refused  to  dismiss  from 
office  a  Postmaster-General  whom  he  knew  to  be  intriguing 
against  him.' 

The  great  evil  which  was  impending  was  largely  prepared 
by  an  Act  of  1820,  which  limited  the  term  of  office  of  a  vast 
number  of  subordinate  officials  to  four  years,  and  at  the  same 
time  made  them  removable  at  pleasure.  The  modern  system 
of  making  all  posts  under  the  Government,  however  uncon- 
nected with  politics,  rewards  for  party  services  was  organised, 
in  1829,  by  Andrew  Jackson.  This  President  maybe  said  to 
have  completed  the  work  of  making  the  American  Eepublic 
a  pure  democracy,  which  Jefferson  had  begun.  His  statue 
stands  in  front  of  the  White  House  at  Washington  as  one  of 
the  great  men  of  America,  and  he  assuredly  deserves  to  be 
remembered  as  the  founder  of  the  most  stupendous  system 
of  political  corruption  in  modern  history.  It  began  on  a  com- 
paratively small  scale.  About  500  postmasters  were  at  once 
removed  to  make  room  for  partisans,  and  all  the  more  active 
partisans,  including,  it  is  said,  fifty  or  sixty  leading  news- 
paper writers,  received  places,  the  propagation  of  Government 
views  through  the  press  having  now  become,  according  to 
Webster,  'the  main  administrative  duty.'  In  a  short  time 
the  dismissals  under  this  President  numbered  about  2,000.' 

1  Goldwin    Smith,    The    United    States,   pp.    192-203;    Ford's   American 
Citizen's  Manual,  i.  138-40. 

VOL.  I.  P 


66  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  system  which  has  spread 
like  a  leprosy  over  all  political  life,  and  to  which  there  is,  I 
believe,  no  adequate  parallel  in  history.  It  is  not  easy  to 
obtain  exact  statistics  about  the  extent  to  which  it  has  been 
practised.  A  very  eminent  American  writer,  who  is  distin- 
guished not  only  for  his  high  character,  but  also  for  his 
scrupulous  accuracy  of  statement  and  research,  and  who  has 
himself  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  work  of  Civil  Service 
reform,  mentions  that  a  few  years  ago  '  the  army  of  Federal 
officials  was  roughly  estimated  at  nearly  125,000,  drawing 
annual  salaries  amounting  to  about  eighty  millions  of  dollars.' 
He  notices  that  in  the  two  years  preceding  1887,  out  of  2,359 
post-offices  known  as  presidential,  about  2,000  had  been 
changed,  and  that  out  of  52,699  lower  post-office  clerks,  about 
40,000  had  been  changed.  100  out  of  111  collectors  of 
Customs,  all  the  surveyors  of  Customs,  all  the  surveyors- 
general,  all  the  post-office  inspectors-in-charge  ;  11  out  of  13 
superintendents  of  mints  ;  84  out  of  85  collectors  of  internal 
revenue ;  65  out  of  70  district  attorneys ;  8  out  of  11 
inspectors  of  steam- vessels ;  16  out  of  18  pension  agents  ; 
190  out  of  224  local  land  officers  were  changed  in  the  space 
of  two  years,  and  under  a  President  who  had  come  to  office 
as  a  supporter  of  Civil  Service  reform.  These  are  but  a  few 
illustrations  out  of  many  of  the  manner  in  which,  in  the 
words  of  the  writer  I  am  citing,  '  office  is  made  the  coin  in 
which  to  pay  political  debts  and  gain  the  services  of  political 
condottieri,'  and  he  estimates  that  this  President  had  '  dis- 
missed nearly  100,000  public  servants  for  political  ends.'  l 

Another  very  competent  American  author,  who  has 
written  the  best  short  account  of  American  government  with 
which  I  am  acquainted,  observes  that  '  in  the  Federal 
Administration  alone  there  are  nearly  90,000  office-holders 
who  have  no  voice  in  the  administration ;  but  as  chiefs  of 
bureaux  and  clerks  are  necessary  for  the  transaction  of  busi- 
ness, and  as  new  territory  is  opened  up,  the  number  is  con- 
stantly increasing.'     These  appointments  are  systematically 

1  See  a  remarkable  essay  on  Mr.  Cleveland  and  Civil  Service  Reform,  by 
Henry  C.  Lea.     Reprinted  from  the  Independent,  October  18, 1888. 


THE   SPOILS   SYSTEM  67 

filled  up,  not  upon  the  ground  of  administrative  capacity, 
but  '  on  the  basis  of  nomination,  influence,  and  official 
favour.'  The  practice  of  constant  removals  has,  since 
Jackson's  time,  '  been  followed  by  all  parties  in  all  elections, 
great  and  small,  national  and  local.'  A  great  part  of  this 
patronage  is  in  the  hands  of  senators  and  representatives, 
who  claim  as  a  right  the  power  of  advising  the  President  in 
these  appointments ;  who  '  dictate  appointments  as  if  the 
Federal  patronage  in  their  State  or  district  was  their  private 
property,'  and  who  systematically  use  it  to  build  up  political 
influence  and  reward  political  services. 

And  not  only  does  this  system  turn  into  ardent  politicians 
countless  officials  whose  duties  should  place  them  as  far  as 
possible  out  of  the  domain  of  party  politics ;  not  only  does 
it  furnish  the  staff  of  the  great  party  organisations,  and 
make  the  desire  of  obtaining  and  retaining  office  the  main 
motive  in  all  party  conflicts — it  also  gives  rise  to  the  system" 
of  political  assessments,  '  made  on  office-holders  of  all  grades, 
by  a  perfectly  irresponsible  committee,  to  be  expended  in 
furthering  the  objects  of  the  party.  .  .  .  Although  nominally 
such  contributions  to  the  campaign  fund  are  made  "  volun- 
tarily "  by  the  office-holders,  yet  their  true  nature  is  shown 
by  many  circumstances.  Thus,  in  making  its  application, 
the  committee  fixes  the  amount  which  each  man  is  to  pay. 
In  1882,  2  per  cent,  of  the  annual  salary  was  required, 
and  was  levied  on  all,  from  the  chiefs  of  bureaux  to  the 
lowest  labourer  in  the  Government  navy  yards,  and  also 
levied  alike  on  Republicans  and  Democrats.  Moreover;  in 
case  the  call  was  not  responded  to,  employes  of  the  com- 
mittee went  among  the  departments  and  made  personal 
application  to  each  delinquent.  By  experience  the  clerk 
knows  that  he  must  pay  or  be  discharged,  a  fact  which  still 
more  strongly  brings  out  the  "  voluntary  "  nature  of  the  con- 
tribution. .  .  .  The  committee  may  expend  the  fund  thus 
collected  as  it  sees  fit,  and  need  render  an  account  of  such 
expenditure  to  no  man.  Truth  compels  us  to  say  that  it 
forms  a  "  corruption  fund  "  for  influencing  elections  ;  and  the 
manner  of  expending  it  is  as  vicious  and  debauching  to  the 

1  2 


68  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

public  service  as  is  the  manner  of  collecting  it.  This  matter 
has  also  been  made  the  subject  of  legislation,  but  without 
any  remedy  being  afforded.'  1 

A  third  very  competent  American  writer  on  the  Consti- 
tution reminds  us  that,  owing  to  the  increased  debt  and 
taxation  growing  out  of  the  Civil  War,  the  number  of  office- 
holders in  the  United  States  quadrupled  in  the  period' from 
1860  to  1870,  and  that  these  appointments  are  systematically 
made  through  mere  party  motives,  and  irrespective  of  the 
capacity  of  the  claimant.  '  This  system,'  he  continues,  '  not 
only  fills  the  public  offices  of  the  United  States  with  ineffi- 
cient and  corrupt  officials  in  high  station,  and  keeps  out  of 
political  life  the  capable  men  who  are  disinclined  to  perform 
party  work  as  a  condition  precedent  to  accession  to  office, 
but  it  also  created  the  same  system  under  those  officials  as 
to  all  their  subordinates.  .  .  .  They  were  to  a  very  large 
degree,  and  still  are,  regularly  assessed  to  pay  the  political 
expenses  of  a  campaign.  Millions  of  dollars  are  thus  raised 
from  office-holders  in  the  United  States  at  every  recurring 
Presidential  election,  or  even  local  election.  .  .  .  Such 
assessments  were  paid  because  they  knew  that  their  official 
existence  would  be  terminated  in  the  event  of  a  change  of 
Administration,  under  the  domination  of  an  adverse  party. 
.  .  .  The  evil  of  the  abominable  "  spoils  "  system  in  the 
United  States  is  not  so  much  the  incompetency  of  the 
officers — an  American's  adaptiveness  enables  him  quickly  to 
learn  the  routine  duties  of  an  office — nor  in  the  waste  of 
public  money  (because  in  a  community  so  rich  in  productive 
power  as  that  of  the  United  States  the  amount  which  pecu- 
lation can  take  from  it  is  a  burden  easy  to  be  borne) — but 
the  main  evil  is  that  the  spoils  system  demoralises  both 
parties,  and  makes  contests  which  should  be  for  principle 

1  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual,  i.  130-41.  Mr.  Lea  writes :  '  It  is  in 
vain  that  the  Pendleton  Act  prohibits  the  levying  of  assessments  on  office- 
holders, when  circulars  from  democratic  committees  are  as  thick  as  leaves  in 
Vallombrosa,  when  the  raffle  for  the  Widow  McGuiness's  pig  proved  so  pro- 
ductive in  the  New  York  Custom  House,  when  an  office  is  ostentatiously  opened 
in  Washington,  and  every  clerk  is  personally  notified  that  it  is  ready  to  receive 
contributions  '  (Mr.  Cleveland  and  Civil  Service  Reform,  p.  4). 


THE   SPOILS  SYSTEM  69 

mainly  for  plunder.'  Under  its  influence,  this  writer  adds, 
the  quadrennial  presidential  elections  have  become  '  mere 
scrambles  for  office.'  ' 

It  will  be  observed  that  this  system  is  very  distinctly  a 
product  of  democracy.  It  is  called  by  its  supporters  the 
rotation  of  offices.  It  is  defended  on  the  ground  that,  by 
short  tenures  and  constant  removals,  it  opens  the  ranks  of 
official  life  to  the  greatest  possible  number  of  the  people ;  and 
although,  in  the  words  of  Mr.  Bryce,  '  nobody  supposes  that 
merit  has  anything  to  do  with  promotion,  or  believes  the 
pretext  alleged  for  an  appointment,' 2  its  democratic  character 
and  its  appeal  to  the  self-interest  of  vast  multitudes  make  it 
popular.  It  is  also,  as  Mr.  Bryce  notices,  a  main  element  in 
that  system  of  '  machine  '-made  politics  which,  in  America, 
so  successfully  excludes  the  more  respectable  class  from 
political  life,  and  throws  its  whole  management  into  the 
hands  of  the  professional  politicians.  I  can  here  only  refer 
my  readers  to  the  instructive  chapters  in  which  Mr.  Bryce 
has  described  the  working  of  the  '  machine.'  He  has  shown 
how  the  extreme  elaboration  and  multiplication  of  com- 
mittees and  organisations  for  the  purpose  of  accumulating 
and  directing  votes,  as  well  as  the  enormous  number  of 
local  elections  to  office  which  are  conducted  on  party  lines, 
and  which  all  add  to  or  subtract  from  party  strength,  turn  the 
politics  of  a  State  into  a  business  so  absorbing  that  no  one 
can  expect  to  have  much  influence  in  it  unless  he  makes  it  a 
main  business  of  his  life.  At  the  same  time,  the  vast  number 
of  men  who  hold  office,  and  the  still  larger  number  who  are 
aspiring  to  office,  furnish  those  organisations  with  innume- 
rable agents,  who  work  for  them  as  men  work  for  their  liveli- 
hood, while  the  tribute  levied  upon  officials  supplies  an 
ample  fund"  for  corruption.  '  The  great  and  growing  volume 
of  political  work  to  be  done  in  managing  Primaries,  conven- 
tions, and  elections  for  the  city,  State  and  national  Govern- 
ment .  .  .  which  the  advance  of  democratic  sentiment  and 
the  needs  of  party  warfare  evolved  from  1820  down  to  about 

1  Sterne's  United  States  Constitution  and  History,  pp.  227-31. 
1  American  Commonwealth,  ii.  488. 


JO  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

1850,  needed  men  who  should  give  to  it  constant  and  undi- 
vided attention.  These  men  the  plan  of  rotation  in  office 
provided.  Persons  who  had  nothing  to  gain  for  themselves 
would  soon  have  tired  of  the  work.  .  .  .  Those,  however, 
whose  bread  and  butter  depend  on  their  party  may  be  trusted 
to  work  for  their  party,  to  enlist  recruits,  look  after  the 
organisation,  play  electioneering  tricks  from  which  ordinary 
party  spirit  might  recoil.  The  class  of  professional  politicians 
was,  therefore,  the  first  crop  which  the  spoils  system — the 
system  of  using  public  offices  as  private  plunder — bore.  .  .  . 
It  is  these  spoilsmen  who  have  depraved  and  distorted  the 
mechanism  of  politics.  It  is  they  who  pack  the  primaries 
and  run  the  conventions,  so  as  to  destroy  the  freedom  of 
popular  choice  ;  they  who  contrive  and  execute  the  election 
frauds  which  disgrace  some  States  and  cities,  repeating  and 
ballot-stuffing,  obstruction  of  the  polls,  and  fraudulent  count- 
ings-in.  .  .  .  The  Civil  Service  is  not  in  America,  and  cannot 
under  the  system  of  rotation,  become  a  career.  Place-hunt- 
ing is  the  career  ;  and  an  office  is  not  a  public  trust,  but  a 
means  of  requiting  party  services,  and  also,  under  the  method 
of  assessments  previously  described,  a  source  whence  party 
funds  maybe  raised  for  election  purposes.' '  'What  charac- 
terises '  American  politicians,  '  as  compared  with  the  corre- 
sponding class  in  Europe,  is  that  their  whole  time  is  more  fre- 
quently given  to  political  work ;  that  most  of  them  draw  an 
income  from  politics,  and  the  rest  hope  to  do  so.' 2 

One  very  natural  result  is,  that  while  there  is  no  country 
in  the  world  in  which  great  party  contests  are  fought  with 
more  energy  and  tenacity  than  in  America,  there  is  no  coun- 
try in  the  world  in  which  the  motives  that  inspire  them  are 
more  purely  or  more  abjectly  sordid.  Great  unselfish  causes 
are,  no  doubt,  advocated  by  groups  of  politicians  in  America, 
as  elsewhere,  but  these  lie  usually  within  the  limits  of  parties, 
and  are  not  the  true  causes  of  party  division.  In  other 
countries  it  is  not  so.  Selfish  and  corrupt  motives  no  doubt 
abound  ;  but  in  the  contest  between  Liberals  and  Conser- 
vatives, Unionists  and  Radicals,  in  England  ;  in  the  great 

1   Bryce,  ii.  485-89.  8  Ibid.  399. 


CORRUPTION   OF  PARTY  POLITICS  7 1 

dynastic  quarrels,  or  quarrels  between  monarchy  and  repub- 
licanism, between  clericalism  and  anti-clericalism,  between 
labour  and  capital,  that  divide  parties  on  the  Continent,  there 
is  always  some  real  principle  at  issue,  some  powerful  element 
of  unselfish  enthusiasm.  In  America  this  does  not  appear  to 
be  the  case.  This  is  partly,  no  doubt,  due  to  the  absence  of 
great  questions  in  a  country  which  has  few  serious  relations 
with  other  nations,  which  has  almost  wholly  disconnected 
the  interests  of  Churches  and  religion  from  national  politics, 
and  in  which  the  Constitution  opposes  insuperable  obstacles 
to  organic  change.  But  it  is  still  more  due  to  the  enormous 
preponderance  in  politics  of  selfish  interests,  and  of  classes 
who  are  animated  by  such  interests.  I  have  quoted  on  this 
subject  the  emphatic  language  of  Mr.  Sterne.  That  of  Mr. 
Bryce  is  very  similar.  '  Politics,'  he  says,  '  has  now  become 
a  gainful  profession,  like  advocacy,  stock-broking,  the  dry- 
goods  trade,  or  the  getting  up  of  companies.  People  go  into 
it  to  live  by  it,  primarily  for  the  sake  of  the  salaries  attached 
to  the  places  they  count  on  getting  ;  secondarily,  in  view  of 
the  opportunities  it  affords  of  making  incidental,  and  some- 
times illegitimate,  gains.'  '  Republicans  and  Democrats  have 
certainly  war-cries,  organisations,  interests  enlisted  in  their 
support.  But  those  interests  are  in  the  main  the  interests 
of  getting  or  keeping  the  patronage  of  the  Government. 
Tenets  and  policies,  points  of  political  doctrine  and  points  of 
political  practice,  have  all  but  vanished.  They  have  not  been 
thrown  away,  but  have  been  stripped  away  by  time  and  tke 
progress  of  events  fulfilling  some  policies,  blotting  out  others. 
All  has  been  lost  except  office  or  the  hope  of  it.'  ' 

There  is  scarcely  any  subject  on  which  the  best  men  in 
America  are  so  fully  agreed  as  upon  the  absolute  necessity 
of  putting  an  end  to  this  spoils  system,  if  American  public 
life  is  ever  to  be  purified  from  corruption.  Unfortunately, 
this  system  appeals  to  so  many  interests  and  such  strong 
passions,  and  has  been  so  thoroughly  incorporated  in  the 
normal  working  of  both  of  the  great  parties,  that  the  task  of 
combating  it  is  enormously  difficult,  and  few  active  politicians 

Bryce,  ii.  345,  392. 


•J 2  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

have  entered  into  it  with  real  earnestness.  There  have 
been  frequent  efforts  in  this  direction.  There  was  an  abortive 
attempt  of  Calhoun,  in  1839,  to  prevent  a  large  class  of 
Government  officers  from  interfering  in  elections.  There 
were  Acts  carried  in  1853  and  1855  requiring  examinations 
for  some  departments  of  the  Civil  Service  at  Washington, 
and  another  Act  was  carried  in  1871 ;  but  they  appear  to  have 
been  little  more  than  a  dead-letter.1  Though  the  subject  was 
frequently  before  Congress,  no  really  efficacious  step  was  taken 
till  the  Act  called  the  Pendleton  Act,  which  was  carried  in 
1883,  and  which  applied  to  about  15,000  officials  out  of  about 
125,000.  It  introduced  into  some  departments  the  system 
of  competitive  examinations,  gave  some  real  fixity  of  tenure, 
and  attempted,  though  apparently  with  little  or  no  success,  to 
check  the  system  of  assessment  for  political  purposes. 

The  system  of  competitive  examinations  has  since  then 
been  in  some  degree  extended.  One  of  the  latest  writers  on 
American  politics  says  that  about  43,800  servants  of  the 
Government,  out  of  nearly  180,000  persons  employed  in  all 
civil  capacities  by  the  United  States,  are  now  withdrawn  from 
the  spoils  system,  but  he  doubts  much  whether  democratic 
opinion  is,  on  the  whole,  in  favour  of  an  abandonment  of  the 
system  of  rotation  and  political  appointment.2  A  considerable 
movement  to  abolish  it  has,  however,  been  set  on  foot,  and  the 
reformers,  who  are  known  under  the  name  of  Mugwumps, 
are  said  to  have  acquired  some  real  influence.  In  the  opinion 
of  Mr.  Gilman,  the  independent  element,  which  is  '  opposed 
to  any  increase  of  the  Civil  Service  of  the  State  or  the 
nation  until  a  great  reform  has  been  accomplished,  beyond 
dispute,  in  the  distribution  of  the  multitude  of  minor  offices,' 
is,  '  happily,  coming  to  hold  more  and  more  the  balance  of 
power.'  '  There  is,'  he  adds,  '  a  powerful  and  growing 
tendency  to  take  out  of  politics  the  public  charities,  the  free 
schools,  the  public  libraries,  the  public  parks,  and  numerous 
other  features  of  municipal  administration.'  To  take  an 
office    '  out  of  politics,'  Mr.  Gilman  very  characteristically 

1  Ford,  i.  141-42  ;  Bryce,  ii.  490. 

2  Hart's  Essays  cm  American  Governments,  pp.  82,  83,  91-96. 


MULTIPLICATION   OF  OFFICES  73 

explains,  means  '  to  take  it  out  of  corruption  into  honesty,' 
and  to  treat  it  '  as  a  public  trust  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole 
people.'  1 

The  growth  of  the  number  of  minor  officials,  which  is  a 
natural  consequence  of  the  spoils  system,  and  also  of  the 
prevailing  tendency  to  extend  the  functions  of  government, 
is  exciting  serious  alarm.  A  recent  Civil  Service  Commission 
gives  the  number  of  '  employees  '  in  the  postal  service  of  the 
United  States,  in  1891,  as  112,800  ;  the  number  of  other 
'  employees '  as  70,688.  There  has  been,  the  commission 
says,  '  a  very  startling  growth  in  the  number  of  Government 
employees,  compared  with  the  growth  of  population.  .  .  .  The 
growth  of  a  service  which  can  be  used  for  political  ends  is  a 
rapidly  increasing  menace  to  republican  government.'  Mr. 
Gilman  quotes  the  statement  of  Mr.  Curtis,  that  the  first 
object  of  every  reformer  should  be  '  to  restrict  still  further 
the  executive  power  as  exercised  by  party.'  In  America, 
that  statesman  says,  '  the  superstition  of  Divine  right  has 
passed  from  the  king  to  the  party,'  and  the  belief  that  it 
can  do  no  wrong  '  has  become  the  practical  faith  of  great 
multitudes.'  '  It  makes  the  whole  Civil  Service  a  drilled 
and  disciplined  army,  whose  living  depends  upon  carrying 
elections  at  any  cost  for  the  party  which  controls  it.' 2 

■  On  the  whole,  as  far  as  a  stranger  can  judge,  there  seem 
to  be  in  this  field  real  signs  of  improvement,  although  the}^ 
may  not  be  very  considerable  or  decisive.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  the  period  immediately  following  the  War 
was  one  peculiarly  fitted  for  the  growth  of  corruption.  The 
sudden  and  enormous  increase  of  debt,  the  corresponding 
multiplication  of  officials,  the  paralysis  of  political  life  in  a 
great  part  of  the  country,  and  the  many  elements  of  social, 
industrial,  and  political  anarchy  that  still  prevailed,  all  made 
the  task  of  professional  politicians  easy  and  lucrative.  One 
great  improvement  which  has  taken  place,  and  which  has 
spread  very  swiftly  over  the  United  States,  has  been  an 
alteration  in  the  ballot  system.  In  my  own  opinion,  the 
ballot,  in  any  country  where  politics  rest  on  a  really  sound 

1  Gilman's  Socialism  and  the  American  Spirit  (1893),  p.  178.  '-'  Ibid.  pp.  310-11. 


74  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

and  independent  basis,  is  essentially  an  evil.  Power  in 
politics  should  never  be  dissociated  from  responsibility,  and 
the  object  of  the  ballot  is  to  make  the  elector  absolutely 
irresponsible.  It  obscures  the  moral  weight  of  an  election, 
by  making  it  impossible  to  estimate  the  real  force  of  opinion, 
knowledge,  and  character  that  is  thrown  on  either  side.  It 
saps  the  spirit  of  independence  and  uprightness,  and  it  gives 
great  facilities  for  deception  and  fraud,  for  the  play  of 
mercenary,  sordid,  and  malignant  motives,  and  for  the  great 
political  evil  of  sacerdotal  influence.  But  the  task  of  a 
statesman  is,  usually,  to  select  the  best  alternative,  and,  where 
intimidation  or  corruption  is  very  rife,  the  evils  produced 
by  secret  voting  may  be  less  serious  than  those  which  it 
prevents. 

In  America,  the  system  of  ballot  secured  no  real  secrecy, 
and  seemed,  and  indeed  probably  was,  specially  intended  to 
throw  all  electoral  power  into  the  hands  of  '  the  machine.' 
The  agents  of  each  organisation  were  suffered  to  stand  at  the 
poll  and  furnish  the  elector  with  ballot-papers  inscribed  with 
the  names  of  their  party  candidates,  and  watchful  eyes 
followed  him  till  he  placed  the  paper  in  the  ballot-box.  He 
might,  it  is  true,  change  the  name  on  the  paper,  but  in  the 
immense  majority  of  cases  the  votes  of  the  electors  were 
dictated  by  and  known  to  the  party  agent.1  A  powerful  move- 
ment, however,  grew  up,  chiefly  in  1890  and  1891,  for  changing 
this  system  and  introducing  what  is  called  the  Australian 
ballot.  Its  principal  feature  is  that  the  State  has  taken  the 
manufacture  and  distribution  of  ballot-papers  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  different  parties,  and  secures  to  the  voter  absolute  secrecy 
and  freedom  from  interference  at  the  polling-booths.  In  five 
years  the  Australian  ballot  has  been  adopted  in  thirty-five 
States,  and  it  appears  to  have  done  something  to  diminish 
the  power  of  the  caucus  organisation  and  to  check  the  various 
fraudulent  practices  which  had  been  common  at  elections.2 

1  See  Bryce,  ii.  pp.  492-95.  There  were  some  varieties,  however,  in  the 
system  in  the  different  States.     (Ford,  American  Citizen's  Manual,  i.  103-8.) 

2  Gilman's  Socialism  and  the  American  Spirit,  pp.  169-70 ;  Political  Science 
Quarterly  (New  York),  1891,  p.  386. 


THE   KNOW-NOTHINGS  75 

One  great  cause  of  the  degradation  of  American  politics 
has  been  the  extreme  facility  with  which  votes  have  been 
given  to  ignorant  immigrants,  who  had  no  experience  in 
public  life  and  no  real  interest  in  the  well-being  of  the  coun- 
try. Most  of  the  more  intelligent  American  observers  have 
agreed  that  the  common  schools,  and  the  high  level  of  know- 
ledge and  intelligence  they  secure,  have  been  among  the  most 
important  conditions  of  the  healthy  working  of  their  institu- 
tions. For  a  long  period  the  constituent  bodies  in  America 
were  certainly  among  the  best  educated  in  the  world ;  but  since 
the  torrent  of  ignorant  immigrants  and  negro  voters  has 
poured  into  them  they  can  have  no  pretensions  to  this  position. 

In  1798,  when  revolutionary  elements  were  very  rife  in 
Europe,  and  when  their  introduction  into  the  United  States 
excited  serious  alarm,  a  Naturalisation  Act  was  carried 
increasing  the  necessary  term  of  residence  from  five  to  four- 
teen years  ;  but  this  Act  was  only  in  force  for  four  years.  The 
Know-nothing  party,  which  played  a  considerable  part  in 
American  politics  in  1854  and  the  two  following  years, 
endeavoured  to  revive  the  policy  of  1798.  It  grew  up  at  the 
time  when  the  evil  effects  of  the  great  immigration  that 
followed  the  Irish  famine  had  become  apparent,  and  it  was 
assisted  by  a  fierce  anti-Popery  fanaticism,  which  had  been 
much  strengthened  by  the  hostility  the  Catholic  clergy  had 
begun  to  show  to  the  common  schools,  and  by  the  attempt 
of  some  of  them  to  exclude  Bible-reading  from  those  schools. 
It  was  guilty  of  not  a  little  lawless  violence,  and  although  it 
succeeded,  in  1855,  in  carrying  nine  of  the  States  elections, 
and  in  1856  nominated  presidential  candidates,  it  soon  per- 
ished, chiefly  through  its  divisions  on  the  slavery  question, 
and  through  the  transcendent  importance  that  question  was 
beginning  to  take  in  American  politics.  It  is  said  that 
Washington,  in  some  moment  of  great  danger,  gave  the  order, 
'  Put  none  but  Americans  on  guard  to-night,'  and  these  words 
were  taken  by  the  Know-nothings  as  their  watchword.  Their 
fundamental  object  was  the  exclusion  of  foreigners  and 
Catholics  from  all  national,  State,  county,  and  municipal 
offices,   and   a  change  in  the  naturalisation  laws  providing 


76  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

that  no  immigrant  should  become  a  citizen  till  after  a  resi- 
dence of  twenty-one,  or,  at  the  very  least,  of  fifteen  years.1 

Few  persons  would  now  defend  the  proposal  to  introduce 
a  religious  disqualification  into  the  American  Constitution ; 
but  if  the  Know-nothings  had  succeeded  in  lengthening  the 
period  of  residence  required  for  naturalisation,  they  might 
have  given  a  different  character  to  American  political  life  and 
incalculably  raised  its  moral  tone.  Their  best  defence  is  to 
be  found  in  the  enormous  scandals  in  the  government  of  New 
York  that  immediately  followed  their  defeat.  To  one  class 
especially,  a  change  in  the  laws  of  naturalisation  would 
have  been  a  priceless  blessing.  It  is  difficult  to  say  how 
different  the  Irish  element  in  America  might  have  been  if  the 
poor,  ignorant,  helpless,  famine-stricken  peasantry  who  poured 
by  tens  of  thousands  into  New  York  had  been  encouraged  to 
pass  at  once  into  honest  industry,  scattered  on  farms  over  the 
face  of  the  country,  and  kept  for  fifteen  or  twenty  years  oat 
of  the  corrupting  influence  of  American  politics.  But  the 
shrewd  party  managers  soon  perceived  that  these  poor  men 
were  among  the  best  counters  in  their  game.  The  immediate 
prospect  of  much  higher  wages  than  they  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  kept  an  immense  proportion  of  them  in  the  great 
city  where  they  landed.  They  had  no  one  to  guide  them. 
They  were  hardly  more  fitted  than  children  to  make  their 
way  under  new  conditions  in  a  strange  land,  and  almost 
their  only  genuine  political  feeling  was  hatred  of  England. 
Like  the  Germans,  they  showed  from  the  first  a  marked  ten- 
dency to  congregate  in  great  towns.  It  was  computed  in 
1890,  that  a  third  part  of  the  Irish  in  America  were  still  to 
be  found  in  the  ten  largest  towns  ;  that,  taking  the  popula- 
tion of  those  towns  together,  one  out  of  every  thirteen  per- 
sons was  Irish,  and  that  in  New  York,  out  of  a  population 
of  a  little  more  than  1,200,000,  198,000  were  Irish.2  Five 
years  were  required  for  naturalisation  by  the  Federal  law,  but 

1  Much  information  on  the  Know-nothing  movement  will  be  found  in  the 
second  volume  of  Mr.  Khodes's  History  of  the  United  States  from  the  Compro- 
mise of  1850,  and  in  an  article  by  Mr.  McMaster  in  The  Forum,  July  1894. 

2  Hart's  Essays  on  American  Government,  pp.  192,  204. 


IRISH  AND  NEGRO  VOTERS  J  J 

some  State  laws  gave  a  vote  after  a  shorter  residence,  and  the 
Federal  law  was  easily  and  constantly  violated.  Immense 
numbers,  who  were  absolutely  ignorant  of  all  American  public 
questions,  and  absolutely  indifferent  to  public  interests,  were 
speedily  drilled  in  the  party  organisation.  They  soon  learned 
their  lesson.  They  acquired  a  rare  aptitude  in  running  the 
machine,  in  turning  the  balance  of  doubtful  elections,  in 
voting  together  in  disciplined  masses,  in  using  political  power 
for  private  gain.  There  are  few  sadder  histories  than  the 
influence  of  the  Irish  race  on  American  politics,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  American  politics  on  the  Irish  race. 

The  enfranchisement  of  the  negroes  added  a  new  and 
enormous  mass  of  voters,  who  were  utterly  and  childishly 
incompetent,  and  it  applied  mainly  to  that  portion  of  the 
United  States  which  had  escaped  the  contamination  of  the 
immigrant  vote.  For  some  time  after  the  war  the  influ- 
ence of  property  and  intelligence  in  the  South  was  com- 
pletely broken,  and  the  negro  vote  was  ostensibly  supreme. 
The  consequence  was  what  might  have  been  expected.  A 
host  of  vagrant  political  adventurers  from  the  North,  known 
in  America  as  carpet-baggers,  poured  into  the  Southern 
provinces,  and,  in  conjunction  with  the  refuse  of  the  mean 
whites,  they  undertook  the  direction  of  the  negro  votes. 
Then  followed,  under  the  protection  of  the  Northern 
bayonets,  a  grotesque  parody  of  government,  a  hideous  orgie 
of  anarchy,  violence,  unrestrained  corruption,  undisguised, 
ostentatious,  insulting  robbery,  such  as  the  world  had 
scarcely  ever  seen.  The  State  debts  were  profusely  piled 
up.  Legislation  was  openly  put  up  for  sale.  The  '  Bosses  ' 
were  in  all  their  glory,  and  they  were  abundantly  rewarded, 
while  the  crushed,  ruined,  plundered  whites  combined  in 
secret  societies  for  their  defence,  and  retaliated  on  their 
oppressors  by  innumerable  acts  of  savage  vengeance.1  At 
length  the  Northern  troops  were  withdrawn,  and  the  whole 

1  See  Bryce,  ii.  520-21 ;  Goldwin  Smith,  p.  300.     M.  Molinari,  in  his  very 

interesting  Lettres  sur  les  Etais-Unis  ct  Ic  Canada,  has  collected  a  number  of 
facts  illustrating  the  extraordinary  reign  of  terror  and  plunder  that  existed  in 
the  South  while  the  carpet-baggers  were  in  power  (see  pp.  185-07,  270-72). 


78  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

scene  changed.  The  carpet-baggers  had  had  their  day,  and 
they  returned  laden  with  Southern  booty  to  their  own 
States.  Partly  by  violence,  partly  by  fraud,  but  largely  also 
through  the  force  of  old  habits  of  obedience  and  command, 
the  planters  in  a  short  time  regained  their  ascendency. 
Sometimes,  it  is  said,  they  did  not  even  count  the  negro 
votes.  Generally  they  succeeded  in  dictating  them,  and  by 
systematic  manipulation  or  intimidation  they  restored  the 
South  to  quiet  and  some  degree  of  prosperity.  A  more 
curious  picture  of  the  effects  of  democratic  equality  among 
a  population  who  were  entirely  unfitted  for  it  had  never 
been  presented.  The  North,  it  is  true,  introduced  all  the 
apparatus  of  State  education  for  the  benefit  of  the  negroes  ; 
but  if  there  had  ever  been  any  desire  for  such  things,  it  soon 
died  away.  Mr.  Bryce,  writing  about  twenty-three  years  after 
the  termination  of  the  Civil  War,  says  :  '  Eoughly  speaking, 
75  per  cent,  of  the  adult  coloured  voters  are  unable  to  write, 
and  most  of  the  rest  unaccustomed  to  read  newspapers.' ' 

The  system  I  have  described  has  proved  even  more 
pernicious  in  municipal  government  than  in  State  politics 
or  in  Federal  politics.  Innumerable  elections  of  obscure 
men  to  obscure  places  very  naturally  failed  to  excite  general 
interest,  and  they  almost  inevitably  fell  into  the  hands  of  a 
small  ring  of  professional  politicians.  The  corruption  of 
New  York,  which  has  been  the  most  notorious,  is  often 
attributed  almost  exclusively  to  the  Irish  vote  ;  but  as  early 
as  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  when  Irish 
influence  was  quite  imperceptible,  the  State  and  City  of 
New  York  were  in  the  hands  of  a  clique  called  '  the  Albany 
Regency,'  which  appears  to  have  exhibited  on  a  small  scale 
most  of  the  features  of  the  later  rings.  '  A  strong  phalanx 
of  officers,  from  the  governor  and  the  senators  down  to  the 
justices  of  peace  in  the  most  remote  part  of  the  State,' 
we  are  told,  governed  New  York  for  the  sole  benefit  of  a 
small  knot  of  corrupt  politicians.  '  The  judiciaries  '  were 
'  shambles  for  the  bargain  and  sale  of  offices. '  The  justices 
of  the  peace  were  all  the  creatures  of  the  party,  and  were 

1  Bryce,  ii.  92-93. 


CORRUPTION  IN  NEW   YORK  79 

almost  invariably  corrupt.1  Between  1842  and  1846,  when 
the  great  Irish  immigration  had  not  yet  begun,  an  evil  of 
another  kind  was  prevailing  in  New  York.  It  was  the 
custom  to  allow  1  the  inmates  of  public  almshouses  to  leave 
the  institutions  on  the  days  of  election  and  cast  their  votes ; 
and  an  American  writer  assures  us  that  at  this  time  '  the 
almshouses  formed  an  important  factor  in  the  politics  of  the 
State  of  New  York,  for  the  paupers  were  sent  out  to  vote  by 
the  party  in  power,  and  were  threatened  with  a  loss  of 
support  unless  they  voted  as  directed  ;  and  the  number  was 
such  as  to  turn  the  scale  in  the  districts  in  which  they 
voted.' 2  It  was  abuses  of  this  kind  that  led  to  one  of  the 
greatest  modern  improvements  in  American  politics — the 
exclusion  in  several  States  of  absolute  paupers  from  the 
franchise. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  the  corruption  never  attained 
anything  approaching  the  magnitude  which  it  reached 
between  1863  and  1871,  when  all  the  powers  of  the  State 
and  town  of  New  York  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
Tammany  Ring.  At  this  time  four-ninths  of  the  popula- 
tion were  of  foreign  birth.  A  vast  proportion  consisted  of 
recent  immigrants,  and  the  Irish  Catholic  vote  seems  to  have 
'  gone  solid  '  in  favour  of  the  ring.  The  majority  of  the 
State  legislature,  the  mayor,  the  governor,  several  of  the 
judges,  almost  all  the  municipal  authorities  who  were 
empowered  to  order,  appropriate,  supervise  and  control 
expenditure,  were  its  creatures,  and  I  suppose  no  other 
capital  city  in  the  civilised  globe  has  ever,  in  time  of  peace, 
witnessed  such  a  system  of  wholesale,  organised,  continuous 
plunder.  It  was  computed  that  65  per  cent,  of  the  sums 
that  were  ostensibly  expended  in  public  works  represented 
fraudulent  additions.  Between  1860  and  1871  the  debt  of 
New  York  quintupled,  and  during  the  last  two  and  a  half 
years  of  the  government  of  the  ring  it  increased  at  the  rate 

> 

1  See  an  address  of  the  well-known  statesman,  W.  H.  Seward,  October  5, 
1824  :  Seward's  Works  (New  York,  1853),  iii.  334-37.  The  first  political  work 
of  Mr.  Seward  was  to  resist  the  Albany  Ring. 

"-  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual,  i.  88-89. 


80  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  more  than  five  and  a  half  millions  of  pounds  a  year.1  A 
distinguished  American  writer,  who  is  also  a  distinguished 
diplomatist  and  well  acquainted  with  the  conditions  of 
European  capitals,  has  drawn  the  following  instructive 
parallel.  '  The  city  of  Berlin,  in  size  and  rapidity  of  growth, 
may  be  compared  to  New  York.  It  contains  twelve  hundred 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  its  population  has  tripled  within 
the  last  thirty  years.  .  .  .  While  Berlin  has  a  municipal  life 
at  the  same  time  dignified  and  economical,  with  streets  well 
paved  and  clean,  with  a  most  costly  system  of  drainage, 
with  noble  public  buildings,  with  life,  liberty,  and  the  pur- 
suit of  happiness  better  guarded  by  far  than  in  our  own 
metropolis,  the  whole  government  is  carried  on  by  its 
citizens  for  but  a  trifle  more  than  the  interest  of  the  public 
debt  of  the  city  of  New  York.' 

'  I  wish,'  says  the  same  writer,  '  to  deliberately  state  a 
fact  easy  of  verification — the  fact  that  whereas,  as  a  rule,  in 
other  civilised  countries  municipal  Governments  have  been 
steadily  improving  until  they  have  been  made  generally 
honest  and  serviceable,  our  own,  as  a  rule,  are  the  worst  in 
the  world,  and  they  are  steadily  growing  worse  every  day.' 2 

The  case  of  New  York  was  an  extreme  one,  but  was, 
indeed,  very  far  from  being  unique.  '  The  government  of 
the  cities,'  says  Mr.  Bryce,  '  is  the  one  conspicuous  failure 
of  the  United  States.  .  .  .  The  faults  of  the  State  Govern- 
ments are  insignificant  compared  with  the  extravagance, 
corruption,  and  mismanagement  which  mark  the  adminis- 
tration of  most  of  the  great  cities.  For  these  evils  are  not 
confined  to  one  or  two  cities.  .  .  .  There  is  not  a  city  with 
a  population  of  200,000  where  the  poison-germs  have  not 
sprung  into  vigorous  life,  and  in  some  of  the  smaller  ones, 
down  to  70,000,  it  needs  no  microscope  to  note  the  results 
of  their  growth.     Even  in  cities  of  the  third  rank  similar 

1  See  Mr.  Goodnow's  chapter  on  the  Tweed  Eing  in  New  York  City  in  Mr. 
Bryce's  third  volume.     See  especially  pp.  179,  190,  195. 

-  The  Message  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  to  tlie  Twentieth,  by  Andrew 
Dickson  White  (Newhaven,  1883),  pp.  14-15;  see  also  an  instructive  article, 
by  the  same  writer,  on  '  The  Government  of  American  Cities  '  (The  For  am, 
December  1890). 


MUNICIPAL   CORRUPTION  8  I 

phenomena  may  occasionally  be  discerned  ;  though  there,  as 
some  one  has  said,  the  jet-black  of  New  York  or  San 
Francisco  dies  away  into  a  harmless  grey.'  '  It  should  be 
added,  that  there  is  no  country  in  the  world  in  which  this 
question  is  more  important  than  in  the  United  States,  for 
there  is  no  country  in  which  town  life  during  the  present 
century  has  increased  so  enormously  and  so  rapidly.  The 
proportion  of  the  population  who  live  in  towns  of  over  8,000 
inhabitants  is  saiti  to  have  risen  in  that  period  from  4  to 
more  than  23  per  cent.2 

Mr.  Bryce  has  enumerated  from  good  American  sources 
the  chief  forms  which  this  municipal  robbery  assumes. 
There  are  sales  of  monopolies  in  the  use  of  public  thorough- 
fares ;  systematic  jobbing  of  contracts  ;  enormous  abuses  in 
patronage ;  enormous  overcharges  for  necessary  public 
works.  Cities  have  been  compelled  to  buy  lands  for  parks 
and  places  because  the  owners  wished  to  sell  them  ;  to 
grade,  pave,  and  sewer  streets  without  inhabitants  in  order 
to  award  corrupt  contracts  for  the  works ;  to  purchase 
worthless  properties  at  extravagant  prices ;  to  abolish  one 
office  and  create  another  with  the  same  duties,  or  to  vary 
the  functions  of  offices  for  the  sole  purpose  of  redistributing 
official  emoluments  ;  to  make  or  keep  the  salary  of  an  office 
unduly  high  in  order  that  its  tenant  may  pay  largely  to  the 
party  funds  ;  to  lengthen  the  term  of  office  in  order  to  secure 
the  tenure  of  corrupt  or  incompetent  men.  "When  increas- 
ing taxation  begins  to  arouse  resistance,  loans  are  launched 
under  false  pretences,  and  often  with  the  assistance  of 
falsified  accounts.  In  all  the  chief  towns  municipal  debts 
have  risen  to  colossal  dimensions  and  increased  with 
portentous  rapidity.  '  Within  the  twenty  years  from  1860 
to  1880,'  says  an  American  writer,  '  the  debts  of  the  cities 
of  the  Union  rose  from  about  ,§100,000,000  to  ,§682,000,000. 
From  1860  to  1875  the  increase  of  debt  in  eleven  cities  was 

1  Bryce,  ii.  281. 

-  See  an  essay  on  American  cities  in  Hart's  Essays  on  American  Govern- 
ment, pp.  162-205  ;  and  an  article  by  Mr.  Springer,  on  '  City  Growth  and  Party 
Politics,'  The  Forum,  December  1890. 

VOL.    I.  G 


82  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

270-9  per  cent.,  increase  of  taxation  362-2  per  cent.  ;  where- 
as the  increase  in  taxable  valuation  was  but  156-9  per 
cent.,  and  increase  in  population  but  70  per  cent.'  l  The 
New  York  Commissioners  of  1876  probably  understated  the 
case  when  they  declared  that  more  than  half  of  all  the 
present  city  debts  in  the  United  States  are  the  direct  results 
of  intentional  and  corrupt  misrule.2 

No  candid  man  can  wonder  at  it.  It  is  the  plain, 
inevitable  consequence  of  the  application  of  the  methods  of 
extreme  democracy  to  municipal  government.  In  America, 
as  in  England,  municipal  elections  fail  to  attract  the  same 
interest  and  attention  as  great  political  ones,  and  when  all 
the  smaller  offices  are  filled  by  popular  election,  and  when 
those  elections  are  continually  recurring,  it  is  impossible  for 
busy  men  to  master  their  details  or  form  any  judgment  on 
the  many  obscure  candidates  who  appear  before  them. 
Property  qualifications  are  deemed  too  aristocratic  for  a 
democratic  people.  The  good  old  clause,  that  might  once  have 
been  found  in  many  charters,  providing  that  no  one  should 
vote  upon  any  proposition  to  raise  a  tax  or  to  appropriate  its 
proceeds  unless  he  was  himself  liable  to  be  assessed  for 
such  tax,  has  disappeared.  '  It  is  deemed  undemocratic ; 
practical  men  say  there  is  no  use  in  submitting  it  to  a 
popular  vote.' 3  The  elections  are  by  manhood  suffrage. 
Only  a  small  proportion  of  the  electors  have  any  appreciable 
interest  in  moderate  taxation  and  economical  administra- 
tion, and  a  proportion  of  votes,  which  is  usually  quite  suffi- 
cient to  hold  the  balance  of  power,  is  in  the  hands  of  recent 
and  most  ignorant  immigrants.  Is  it  possible  to  conceive 
conditions  more  fitted  to  subserve  the  purposes  of  cunning 
and  dishonest  men,  whose  object  is  personal  gain,  whose 
method  is  the  organisation  of  the  vicious  and  ignorant 
elements  of  the  community  into  combinations  that  can  turn 
elections,  levy  taxes,  and  appoint  administrators  ? 

The  rings  are  so  skilfully  constructed  that  they  can 
nearly  always  exclude  from  office  a  citizen  who  is  known  to 

1  Sterne's  United  States,  p.  267 ;  see  also  Bryce,  ii.  280. 

2  Bryce,  ii.  278-87,  469-74,  521.  3  Ibid.  ii.  291. 


MUNICIPAL   CORRUPTION  83 

be  hostile ;  though  '  a  good,  easy  man,  who  will  not  fight, 
and  will  make  a  reputable  figure-head,  may  be  an  excel- 
lent investment.' l  Sometimes,  no  doubt,  the  bosses  quarrel 
among  themselves,  and  the  cause  of  honest  government  may 
gain  something  by  the  dispute.  But  in  general,  as  long  as 
government  is  not  absolutely  intolerable,  the  more  indus- 
trious and  respectable  classes  keep  aloof  from  the  nauseous 
atmosphere  of  municipal  politics,  and  decline  the  long> 
difficult,  doubtful  task  of  entering  into  conflict  with  the 
dominant  rings.  '  The  affairs  of  the  city,'  says  Mr.  White, 
'  are  virtually  handed  over  to  a  few  men  who  make  politics, 
so  called,  a  business.  The  very  germ  of  the  difficulty  was 
touched  once,  in  my  presence,  by  a  leading  man  of  business 
in  our  great  metropolis,  who  said  :  "  We  have  thought  this 
thing  over,  and  we  find  that  it  pays  better  to  neglect  our 
city  affairs  than  to  attend  to  them  ;  that  we  can  make  more 
money  in  the  time  required  for  the  full  discharge  of  our 
political  duties  than  the  politicians  can  steal  from  us  on 
account  of  our  not  discharging  them."  '  2 

The  evil  has,  however,  undoubtedly,  in  many  cases 
become  intolerable,  and  the  carnival  of  plunder  that  cul- 
minated in  New  York  in  1871  gave  a  shock  to  public  opinion 
and  began  a  series  of  amendments  which  appear  to  have 
produced  some  real  improvement.  '  The  problem,'  says  Mr. 
Sterne,  '  is  becoming  a  very  serious  one  how,  with  the  growth 
of  a  pauper  element,  property  rights  in  cities  can  be  pro- 
tected from  confiscation  at  the  hands  of  the  non-producing 
classes.  That  the  suffrage  is  a  spear  as  well  as  a  shield  is  a 
fact  which  many  writers  on  suffrage  leave  out  of  sight ; 
that  it  not  only  protects  the  holder  of  the  vote  from  ag- 
gression, but  also  enables  him  to  aggress  upon  the  rights  of 
others  by  means  of  the  taxing  power,  is  a  fact  to  which  more 
and  more  weight  must  be  given  as  population  increases  and 
the  suffrage  is  extended.' 3  Some  good  has  been  done  by 
more  severe  laws  against  corruption  at  elections ;  though,  in 

1  Bryce,  ii.  469. 

-  White's  Message  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  to  the  Twentieth,  pp.  15-16. 

3  Sterne,  p.  271. 

o  2 


84  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

spite  of  these  laws,  the  perjury  and  personation  and  whole- 
sale corruption  of  a  New  York  election  appear  far  to  exceed 
anything  that  can  be  found  in  the  most  corrupt  capital  in 
Europe.1  A  great  reform,  however,  has  been  made  by  the 
extension  of  the  term  of  office  of  the  New  York  judges  in 
the  higher  courts  to  fourteen  years,  and  by  a  measure 
granting  them  independent  salaries.  The  general  impunity  of 
the  great  organisers  of  corruption  was  broken  in  1894,  when 
one  of  the  chief  bosses  in  America,  a  man  of  vast  wealth 
and  enormous  influence  in  American  politics,  was  at  last 
brought  to  justice  and  sentenced  to  six  years'  imprison- 
ment.2 

The  most  successful  steps,  however,  taken  in  the  direc- 
tion of  reform  have  been  those  limiting  the  power  of  corrupt 
bodies.  One  of  the  most  valuable  and  most  distinctive 
features  of  the  American  Constitution  is  the  power  of 
electing  conventions  independent  of  the  State  legislatures 
for  the  purpose  of  effecting  amendments  in  the  State  con- 
stitutions. Being  specially  elected  for  a  single  definite  pur- 
pose, and  for  a  very  short  time,  and  having  none  of  the 
patronage  and  administrative  powers  that  are  vested  in  the 
Legislature,  these  conventions,  though  the  creatures  of 
universal  suffrage,  have  in  a  great  degree  escaped  the  in- 
fluence of  the  machine,  and  represent  the  normal  and 
genuine  wishes  of  the  community.  They  have  no  power 
of  enacting  amendments,  but  they  have  the  power  of  pro- 
posing them  and  submitting  them  to  a  direct  popular  vote. 
By  these  means  a  number  of  amendments  have,  during 
the  last  few  years,  been  introduced  into  the  State  constitu- 
tions. In  New  York,  and  in  several  other  States,  since  1874 
the  State  legislatures  are  only  permitted  to  legislate  for 
municipal  affairs  by  a  general  law,  and  are  deprived  of  the 
much-abused  right  of  making  special  laws  in  favour  of 
particular  individuals  or  corporations  ;  but    it  is    said  that 

1  See  a  striking  account  of  the  way  in  which  New  York  elections  are  still 
conducted,  hy  Mr.  Gotf,  in  the  North  American  Review,  1894,  pp.  203-10. 

2  A  curious  letter  on  the  career  of  this  personage,  called  '  The  Downfall  of  a 
Political  Boss  in  the  United  States,'  will  be  found  in  The  Times,  March  2, 
1894. 


RESTRICTIONS   IMPOSED   ON   STATE   LEGISLATURES    85 

these  restrictions  are  easily  and  constantly  evaded.1  Re- 
strictions have  been  imposed  in  many  States  upon  forms  of 
corruption  that  had  been  widely  practised,  in  the  guise  of 
distributions  of  public  funds  in  aid  of  charities  connected 
with  religious  establishments,  and  of  exemptions  from  taxa- 
tion granted  to  charitable  institutions.  In  a  few  States 
some  provision  has  been  made  to  secure  a  representation  of 
minorities,2  and  in  many  States  limitations — which,  however, 
have  been  often  successfully  evaded — have  been  imposed  on 
the  power  of  borrowing  and  the  power  of  taxing.3  The 
theory  of  American  statesmen  seems  to  be,  that  the  persons 
elected  on  a  democratic  system  are  always  likely  to  prove 
dishonest,  but  that  it  is  possible  by  constitutional  laws  to 
restrict  their  dishonesty  to  safe  limits.  There  has  been  a 
strong  tendency  of  late  years  to  multiply  and  elaborate  in 
minute  detail  constitutional  restrictions,  and  the  policy  has 
also  been  widely  adopted  of  making  the  sessions  of  State  legis- 
latures biennial  instead  of  annual,  in  order  to  limit  their 
powers  of  mischief. 

The  following  interesting  passage  from  one  of  the  chief 
living  historians  of  America  well  represents  the  new  spirit. 
'  It  has  become  the  fashion  to  set  limits  on  the  power  of  the 
governors,  of  the  legislatures,  of  the  courts ;  to  command 
them  to  do  this,  to  forbid  them  to  do  that,  till  a  modern 
State  constitution  is  more  like  a  code  of  laws  than  an 
instrument  of  representative  government.  A  distrust  of  the 
servants  and  representatives  of  the  people  is  everywhere 
manifest.  Al  ong  and  bitter  experience  has  convinced  the 
people  that  legislators  will  roll  up  the  State  debt  unless 
positively  forbidden  to  go  beyond  a  certain  figure ;  that  they 
will  suffer  railroads  to  parallel  each  other,  corporations  to 
consolidate,  common  carriers  to  discriminate,  city  councils 
to   sell  valuable    franchises    to    street-car    companies    and 

1  Sterne,  pp.  258-59.  -  Ford,  i.  113-15. 

3  See,  on  this  subject,  Bryce,  ii.  293-94.  One  favourite  form  of  restriction 
has  been  that  the  debt  of  a  country,  city,  borough,  township,  or  school  district 
shall  never  exceed  7  per  cent,  of  the  assessed  value  of  the  taxable  property. 
In  order  to  evade  this  the  assessed  value  of  property  has  almost  everywhere 
been  largely  increased. 


86  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

telephone  companies,  unless  the  State  constitution  expressly 
declares  that  such  things  shall  not  be.  So  far  has  this 
system  of  prohibition  been  carried,  that  many  legislatures  are 
not  allowed  to  enact  any  private  or  special  legislation  ;  are 
not  allowed  to  relieve  individuals  or  corporations  from 
obligations  to  the  State ;  are  not  allowed  to  pass  a  Bill  in 
which  any  member  is  interested,  or  to  loan  the  credit  of 
the  State,  or  to  consider  money  Bills  in  the  last  hours  of  the 
session.'  "  In  Washington,  a  still  stronger  measure  has  been 
adopted,  and  the  whole  municipal  government  is  placed  in 
the  hands  of  a  commission  appointed  directly  by  the  Congress. 
At  the  same  time,  another  very  different,  and  perhaps 
more  efficacious,  method  has  been  adopted  of  checking 
municipal  corruption,  and  Laveleye  has  justly  regarded  it  as 
extremely  significant  of  the  future. tendencies  of  democracy. 
There  are  two  facts,  as  yet  very  imperfectly  recognised  in 
Europe,  which  American  experience  has  amply  established. 
The  first  is  that,  in  the  words  of  an  American  writer,  '  there 
can  be  no  question  that  one  of  the  most  prolific  sources  of 
official  corruption  and  incompetency  lies  in  the  multiplica- 
tion of  elective  offices.' 2  The  second  is,  that  this  multiplica- 
tion, instead  of  strengthening,  materially  diminishes  popular 
control,  for  it  confuses  issues,  divides  and  obscures  respon- 
sibility, weakens  the  moral  effect  of  each  election,  bewilders 
the  ordinary  elector,  who  knows  little  or  nothing  of  the 
merits  of  the  different  candidates,  and  inevitably  ends  by 
throwing  the  chief  power  into  the  hands  of  a  small  knot 
of  wirepullers.  The  system  has,  accordingly,  grown  up  in 
America  of  investing  the  mayors  of  the  towns  with  an 
almost  autocratic  authority,  and  making  them  responsible  for 
the  good  government  of  the  city.  These  mayors  are  them- 
selves elected  by  popular  suffrage  for  periods  ranging  from 
one  to  five  years ;  they  are  liable  to  impeachment  if  they 
abuse  their  functions ;  the  State  legislature  retains  the 
right  of  giving  or  withholding  supplies,  and  it  can  override, 
though  only  by  a  two-thirds  majority,  the  veto  of  the  mayor. 

1  See  an  article,  by  Mr.  McMaster,  in  The  Forum,  December  1893,  p.  470. 

2  Ford,  i.  129. 


TENDENCY  TO  CONCENTRATE  POWER       87 

But,  in  spite  of  these  restrictions,  the  power  vested  in  this 
functionary,  according  to  recent  constitutional  amendments, 
is  enormously  great,  far  greater  than  in  European  cities. 
With  very  slight  restrictions,  the  mayor  appoints  and  can 
remove  all  the  heads  of  all  the  city  departments.  He  exer- 
cises a  right  of  veto  and  supervision  over  all  their  proceed- 
ings. He  is  responsible  for  the  working  of  every  part  of 
municipal  administration.  He  keeps  the  peace,  calls  out 
the  Militia,  enforces  the  law,  and,  in  a  word,  determines  in 
all  its  main  lines  the  character  of  the  city  government.  This 
system  began  in  Brooklyn  in  1882.  It  was  extended, 
apparently  with  excellent  results,  to  New  York  in  1884  ;  and 
the  same  highly  concentrated  responsibility  is  spreading 
rapidly  through  other  States.1  It  is  curious  to  observe  the 
strength  which  this  tendency  is  assuming  in  a  country 
which  beyond  all  others  was  identified  with  the  opposite 
system ;  and  it  is  regarded  by  some  excellent  political 
writers  in  America  as  the  one  real  corrective  of  the  vices  of 
democracy.  In  the  words  of  one  of  the  most  recent  of  these 
writers,  '  the  tendency  is  visibly  strengthening  in  the  United 
States  to  concentrate  administrative  powers  in  the  hands  of 
one  man,  and  to  hold  him  responsible  for  its  wise  and  honest 
use.  Diffusion  of  responsibility  through  a  crowd  of  legisla- 
tors has  proved  to  be  a  deceptive  method  of  securing  the 
public  welfare.'2 

It  seems  to  me  probable  that  this  system  will  ultimately, 
and  after  many  costly  and  disastrous  experiments,  spread 
widely  wherever  unqualified  democracy  prevails.  In  the 
election  of  a  very  conspicuous  person,  who  is  invested  with 
very  great  prerogatives,  public  interest  is  fully  aroused,  and 
a  wave  of  opinion  arises  which  in  some  degree  overflows  the 
lines  of  strict  caucus  politics.  The  increasing  power  of 
organisations  is  a  conspicuous  fact  in  all  countries  that  are 
gliding  down  the  democratic  slope.  It  is  abundantly  seen 
in  England,  where  candidates  for  Parliament  are  now  more 

1  Bryce,  ii.  264-05,  292,  304-5,  iii.  100  ;  Lavelcye,  Lc  Gouverncment  dans 
la  Democratic,  i.  97-109. 

-  Gilman,  Socialism  and  the  American  Spirit,  p.  82. 


88  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  more  exclusively  nominated  by  party  organisations  ;  and 
in  the  United  States  the  power  of  such  bodies  is  far  greater 
than  in  England.  But  while  in  obscure  and  comparatively 
insignificant  appointments  the  managers  of  the  machine  can 
usually  do  much  what  they  please,  they  are  obliged  in  the 
more  important  elections  to  take  average  non-political  opinion 
into  account.  The  best  candidates  are  not  found  to  be  men 
of  great  eminence  or  ability,  for  these  always  excite  animosi- 
ties and  divisions  ;  but  it  is  equally  important  that  they 
should  not  be  men  labouring  under  gross  moral  imputations. 
The  system  of  double  election  also,  though  it  has  been  greatly 
weakened,  probably  still  exercises  some  influence  in  diminish- 
ing corruption.  It  is  like  the  process  of  successive  inocula- 
tions, by  which  physiologists  are  able  to  attenuate  the  virus 
of  a  disease.  On  the  whole,  corruption  in  the  United  States 
is  certainly  less  prominent  in  the  higher  than  in  the  lower 
spheres  of  government,  though  even  in  the  former  it  appears 
to  me  to  be  far  greater  than  in  most  European  countries — 
certainly  far  greater  than  in  Great  Britain. 

I  can,  however,  hardly  do  better  than  give  a  summary  of 
the  conclusions  of  Mr.  Bryce.  They  appear  to  me  the  more 
impressive  because,  in  the  somewhat  curious  chapter  which 
he  has  devoted  to  American  corruption,  it  is  his  evident 
desire  to  minimise,  as  far  as  he  honestly  can,  both  its  gravity 
and  its  significance.  No  President,  he  says,  has  ever  been 
seriously  charged  with  pecuniary  corruption,  and  there  is  no 
known  instance,  since  the  presidency  which  immediately 
preceded  the  Civil  War,  of  a  Cabinet  minister  receiving  a 
direct  money  bribe  as  the  price  of  an  executive  act  or  an 
appointment  ;  but  several  leading  ministers  of  recent  Ad- 
ministrations have  been  suspected  of  complicity  in  railroad 
jobs,  and  even  in  frauds  upon  the  revenue.  In  the  Legisla- 
ture, both  the  senators  and  the  members  of  the  House  of 
Representatives  labour  under  '  abundant  suspicions,'  '  abun- 
dant accusations,'  but  few  of  these  '  have  been,  or  could  have 
been,  sifted  to  the  bottom.'  '  The  opportunities  for  private 
gain  are  large,  the  chances  of  detection  small.'  All  that  can 
be  safely  said  is,  that  personal  dishonesty  in  the  exercise  of 


CORRUPTION   IN    CONGRESS  89 

legislative  powers,  of  a  kind  quite  distinct  from  the  political 
profligacy  with  which  we  are  in  our  own  country  abundantly 
familiar,  prevails  largely  and  unquestionably  in  America.  It 
is  especially  prominent  in  what  we  should  call  private  Bills 
affecting  the  interests  of  railroads  or  of  other  wealthy  cor- 
porations, and  in  Bills  altering  the  tariff  of  imports,  on  which 
a  vast  range  of  manufacturing  interests  largely  depend. 
'  The  doors  of  Congress  are  besieged  by  a  whole  army  of 
commercial  and  railroad  men  and  their  agents,  to  whom, 
since  they  have  come  to  form  a  sort  of  profession,  the  name 
of  Lobbyists  is  given.  Many  Congressmen  are  personally 
interested,  and  lobby  for  themselves  among  their  colleagues 
from  the  vantage-ground  of  their  official  positions.' 

The  object  of  the  lobbyist  is  to  '  offer  considerations  for  help 
in  passing  a  Bill  which  is  desired,  or  stopping  a  Bill  which  is 
feared.'  There  are  several  different  methods.  There  is  '  log- 
rolling,' when  members  interested  in  different  private  Bills 
come  to  an  agreement  that  each  will  support  the  Bill  of  the 
others  on  condition  of  himself  receiving  the  same  assistance. 
There  is  the  '  strike,'  which  means  that  '  a  member  brings  in 
a  Bill  directed  against  some  railroad  or  other  great  corpora- 
tion merely  in  order  to  levy  blackmail  upon  it.  .  .  .  An 
eminent  railroad  president  told  me  that  for  some  years  a 
certain  senator  regularly  practised  this  trick.'  'It  is  uni- 
versally admitted  that  the  Capitol  and  the  hotels  of  Washing- 
ton are  a  nest  of  such  intrigues  and  machinations  while 
Congress  is  sitting.'  The  principal  method,  however,  of 
succeeding  seems  to  be  simple  bribery,  though  '  no  one  can 
tell  how  many  of  the  members  are  tainted.'  Sometimes  the 
money  does  not  go  to  the  member  of  Congress,  but  to  the 
boss  who  controls  him.  Sometimes  a  Lobbyist  receives  money 
to  bribe  an  honest  member,  but,  finding  he  is  going  to  vote 
in  the  way  desired,  keeps  it  in  his  own  pocket.  Often  mem- 
bers are  bribed  to  support  a  railway  by  a  transfer  of  portions 
of  its  stocks.  Free  passes  were  so  largely  given  with  the 
same  object  to  legislators  that  an  Act  was  passed  in  1887  to 
forbid  them.  Mr.  Bryce  mentions  a  governor  who  used  to 
obtain  loans  of  money  from  the  railway  which  traversed  his 


90  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

territory  under  the  promise  that  he  would  use  his  constitu- 
tional powers  in  its  favour  ;  and  members  of  Congress  were 
accustomed  to  buy,  or  try  to  buy,  land  belonging  to  a 
railway  company  at  less  than  the  market  price,  in  con- 
sideration of  the  services  they  could  render  to  the  line  in  the 
House.  It  was  clearly  shown  that,  in  one  case  within  the 
last  twenty  years,  a  large  portion  of  a  sum  of  #4,818,000, 
which  was  expended  by  a  single  railway,  was  used  for  the 
purpose  'of  influencing  legislation.'  The  letters  of  the 
director  who  managed  the  case  of  this  railway  have  been 
published,  and  show  that  he  found  members  of  both  Houses 
fully  amenable  to  corruption.  '  I  think,'  writes  this  gentle- 
man in  1878,  '  in  all  the  world's  history,  never  before  was 
such  a  wild  set  of  demagogues  honoured  by  the  name  of 
Congress.' 

It  is,  of  course,  inevitable  that  only  a  small  proportion  of 
transactions  of  this  kind  should  be  disclosed.  These  cases 
are  merely  samples,  probably  representing  many  others. 
A  great  additional  amount  of  direct  corruption  is  connected 
with  the  enormous  distribution  of  patronage  in  the  hands 
of  members  of  Congress.  There  are  about  120,000  Federal 
Civil  Service  places,  and  an  important  part  of  each  member's 
business  is  to  distribute  such  places  among  his  constituents. 
It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  such  patronage  would  be  adminis- 
tered by  such  men  as  have  been  described. 

Mr.  Bryce,  however,  is  of  opinion  that  there  is  much 
prevalent  exaggeration  about  American  corruption,  and  that 
Europeans  are  very  unduly  shocked  by  it.  This  is  partly 
the  fault  of  Americans,  who  have  '  an  airy  way  of  talking 
about  their  own  country,'  and  love  '  broad  effects.'  It  is 
partly,  also,  due  to  the  malevolence  of  European  travellers, 
'  who,  generally  belonging  to  the  wealthier  class,  are 
generally  reactionary  in  politics,'  and  therefore  not  favour- 
able to  democratic  government.  Englishmen,  he  thinks,  are 
very  unphilosophical.  They  have  '  a  useful  knack  of  for- 
getting their  own  shortcomings  when  contemplating  those 
of  their  neighbours.'  'Derelictions  of  duty  which  a  man 
thinks  trivial  in  the  form  with  which  custom  has  made  him 


CORRUPTION   IN   CONGRESS  9 1 

familiar  in  his  own  country,  where,  perhaps,  they  are  matter 
for  merriment,  shock  him  when  they  appear  in  a  different 
form  in  another  country.  They  get  mixed  up  in  his  mind 
with  venality,  and  are  cited  to  prove  that  the  country  is  cor- 
rupt and  its  politicians  profligate.'  In  the  proceedings  of 
Congress,  Mr.  Bryce  says,  'it  does  not  seem,  from  what  one 
hears  on  the  spot,  that  money  is  often  given,  or,  I  should 
rather  say,  it  seems  that  the  men  to  whom  it  is  given  are  few 
in  number.  But  considerations  of  some  kind  pretty  often 
pass.'  In  other  words,  not  actual  money,  but  the  value  of 
money,  and  jobs  by  which  money  can  be  got,  are  usually 
employed. 

Senators  are  often  charged  with  '  buying  themselves  into 
the  Senate,'  but  Mr.  Bryce  does  not  think  that  they  often 
give  direct  bribes  to  the  members  of  the  State  legislature 
to  vote  for  them.  They  only  make  large  contributions  to  the 
party  election  fund,  out  of  which  the  election  expenses  of 
the  majority  are  defrayed.1  '  Bribery  exists  in  Congress,  but 
is  confined  to  a  few  members,  say  5  per  cent,  of  the  whole 
number.  .  .  .  The  taking  of  other  considerations  than 
money,  such  as  a  share  in  a  lucrative  contract,  or  a  railway 
pass,  or  a  "  good  thing  "to  be  secured  for  a  friend,  prevails 
among  legislators  to  a  somewhat  larger  extent.  .  .  .  One 
may  roughly  conjecture  that  from  15  to  20  per  cent,  of  the 
members  of  Congress,  or  of  an  average  State  legislature, 
would  allow  themselves  to  be  influenced  by  inducements  of 
this  kind.  .  .  .  Jobbery  of  various  kinds,  i.e.  the  misuse  of  a 
public  position  for  the  benefit  of  individuals,  is  pretty 
frequent.  It  is  often  disguised  as  a  desire  to  render  some 
service  to  the  party ;  and  the  same  excuse  is  sometimes 
found  for  a  misappropriation  of  public  money.     Patronage 

1  I  may  here  quote  the  words  of  Mr.  White,  whose  authority  on  such  a 
question  is  at  least  equal  to  that  of  Mr.  Bryce  : — '  I  am  not  at  all  disposed  to 
accept  the  prevalent  cant  about  corruption  ;  but  suppose  that  any  one  had  told 
us  in  our  college  days,  as  we  pondered  the  speeches  of  Webster,  and  Calhoun, 
and  Clay,  and  Sumner,  and  Seward,  and  Everett,  that  great  commonwealths 
would  arise  in  which  United  States'  senatorships  would  be  virtually  put  up  to 
the  highest  bidder  term  after  term,  until  such  a  mode  of  securing  a  position  in 
our  highest  council  would  be  looked  upon  as  natural  and  normal ! '  (Message 
of  the  Nineteenth  Century  to  the  Twentieth,  p.  14). 


92  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

is  usually  dispensed  with  a  view  to  party  considerations  or 
to  win  personal  support.  But  this  remark  is  equally  true  of 
England  and  France,  the  chief  difference  being  that,  owing 
to  the  short  terms  and  frequent  removals,  the  quantity  of 
patronage  is  relatively  greater  in  the  United  States.' 

On  the  whole,  Mr.  Bryce  concludes,  if  '  we  leave  ideals 
out  of  sight,  and  try  America  by  an  actual  standard,  we  shall 
find  that  while  the  legislative  bodies  fall  below  the  level  of 
purity  maintained  in  England  and  Germany,  probably  also 
in  France  and  Italy,  her  Federal  and  State  Administration, 
in  spite  of  the  evils  flowing  from  an  uncertain  tenure,  is  not, 
in  point  of  integrity,  at  this  moment  sensibly  inferior  to  the 
Administrations  of  European  countries.' l 

This  judgment  certainly  does  not  err  on  the  side  of 
severity.  If  in  England  a  great  admirer  of  our  parliamentary 
institutions,  while  boasting  that  no  Prime  Minister  had  been 
seriously  charged  with  pecuniary  corruption,  and  that  no 
Cabinet  Minister  had  been  known  for  the  last  forty  years  to 
have  taken  money  as  a  bribe,  was  obliged  to  add  that  several 
Cabinet  Ministers  of  both  parties  in  the  State  were  suspected 
of  complicity  in  railroad  jobs  and  frauds  on  the  revenue  ; 
that  the  whole  of  that  vast  department  of  legislation  which 
affects  the  interests  of  corporations  and  manufactures  was 
systematically  managed,  or  at  least  influenced,  by  corruption  ; 
that  about  5  per  cent,  of  the  members  of  both  Houses  of 
Parliament  were  accustomed  to  take  direct  money  bribes ; 
that  one  in  every  five  or  six  members  was  pretty  certainly 
open  to  corrupt  jobs,  while  suspicion  of  dishonesty  of  some 
kind  attached  to  a  much  larger  number,  we  should  scarcely, 
I  think,  consider  our  parliamentary  government  a  success. 

Many  of  the  causes  of  the  vices  of  American  govern- 
ment are  inherent  in  democracy,  but  there  are  two  aggra- 
vating causes  which  I  have  not  mentioned.  The  rule  that 
the  person  elected  to  either  House  of  Congress  must  be  a 
resident  in  the  State  for  which  he  sits  abridges  greatly  the 
choice  of  able  and  efficient  men,  and  much  strengthens  the 
power  of  the  local  machine  ;  while  the  large  salaries  attached 

1  Bryce,  ii.  509-25. 


PUBLIC   OPINION   ON   CORRUPTION  93 

to  the  position  of  senator  or  representative  make  it — even 
apart  from  its  many  indirect  advantages — an  object  of  keen 
ambition  to  the  professional  politician.  Members  of  each 
House  have  a  salary  of  1,000Z.  a  year,  besides  some  small 
allowance  for  travelling  and  other  expenses.  In  1873,  the 
two  Houses  passed  an  Act  increasing  many  official  salaries 
and  adding  a  third  to  their  own  salaries,  and,  by  a  curiously 
characteristic  provision,  the  congressional  salaries,  and  these 
alone,  were  made  retroactive.  The  appropriation,  however, 
by  Congress  of  nearly  40,000Z.  to  itself  excited  so  much 
indignation  that  it  was  repealed  in  the  next  Congress.1 

The  members  of  the  House  of  Representatives  sit  only  for 
two  years,  which  probably  adds  something  to  the  desire  for 
speedy  gain.  At  the  same  time,  it  appears  certain  that  the 
Federal  Government  is  less  deeply  tainted  with  corruption 
than  a  large  proportion  of  the  State  legislatures,  far  less 
deeply  than  the  Governments  of  nearly  all  the  more  important 
towns. 

There  is  one  thing  which  is  worse  than  corruption.  It  is 
acquiescence  in  corruption.  No  feature  of  American  life 
strikes  a  stranger  so  powerfully  as  the  extraordinary  indif- 
ference, partly  cynicism  and  partly  good  nature,  with  which 
notorious  frauds  and  notorious  corruption  in  the  sphere  of 
politics  are  viewed  by  American  public  opinion.  There  is 
nothing,  I  think,  altogether  like  this  to  be  found  in  any  other 
great  country.  It  is  something  wholly  different  from  the 
political  torpor  which  is  common  in  half-developed  nations 
and  corrupt  despotisms,  and  it  is  curiously  unlike  the  state  of 
feeling  which  exists  in  the  French  Republic.  Flagrant  in- 
stances of  corruption  have  been  disclosed  in  France  since 
1870,  but  French  public  opinion  never  fails  promptly  to  resent 
and  to  punish  them.  In  America,  notorious  profligacy  in 
public  life  and  in  the  administration  of  public  funds  seems  to 
excite  little  more  than  a  disdainful  smile.  It  is  treated  as 
very  natural — as  the  normal  result  of  the  existing  form  of 
government. 

I  imagine  that  most  persons  who  formed  their  opinions, 
1  Bryce,  i.  259-01.     < 


94  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

as  historians  are  apt  to  do,  mainly  by  the  examples  of  the 
past  would  judge  very  unfavourably  the  prospects  of  a  coun- 
try where  there  was  so  much  corruption  and  so  much  tolera- 
tion of  corruption  in  public  life.  The  words  of  Jugurtha 
might  well  rise  to  their  lips :  '  Urbem  venalem,  et  mature 
perituram  si  emptorem  invenerit !  '  They  would  be  inclined 
to  conclude  that,  if  the  United  States  escaped  great  perils 
from  without,  this  was  mainly  due  to  its  extraordinarily 
advantageous  position,  and  that  internally  it  presented  in  a 
very  marked  degree  the  signs  of  moral  dissolution  which 
portend  the  decadence  of  nations.  I  believe,  however,  that 
the  best  judges,  who  are  well  acquainted  with  America,  would 
concur  in  believing  that  such  a  judgment  would  be  fallacious. 
America  illustrates  even  more  clearly  than  France  the  truth 
which  I  have  already  laid  down,  and  which  will  again  and  again 
reappear  in  these  volumes — that  pure  democracy  is  one  of  the 
least  representative  of  governments.  In  hardly  any  other 
country  does  the  best  life  and  energy  of  the  nation  flow  so 
habitually  apart  from  politics.  Hardly  any  other  nation 
would  be  more  grossly  misjudged  if  it  were  mainly  judged  by 
its  politicians  and  its  political  life.1  It  seems  a  strange 
paradox  that  a  nation  which  stands  in  the  very  foremost  rank 
in  almost  all  the  elements  of  a  great  industrial  civilisation, 
which  teems   with  energy,  intelligence   and  resource,   and 

1  The  following  remarks  of  Mr.  Gilman  appear  to  me  well  worthy  of  atten- 
tion : — '  Only  one  who  has  lived  for  some  time  in  the  United  States,  and  has  had 
considerable  experience  of  the  actual  workings  of  American  political  institutions, 
will  sufficiently  realise  the  force  of  the  curious  contrast  between  "  the  people  " 
and  "  the  politicians."  It  is  purely  in  imagination  or  theory  that  the  poli- 
ticians are  faithful  representatives  of  the  people.  The  busy,  "  driving " 
American  citizen  is  apt  to  feel  that  he  has  no  time  to  watch  the  people  who 
make  a  profession  of  running  the  political  machine.  His  own  private  busi- 
ness, with  which  Government  as  a  rule  has  little  to  do,  tends  to  absorb  his 
thoughts.  He  even  prefers  too  often  to  be  heavily  taxed  in  direct  consequence 
of  political  corruption,  rather  than  to  take  the  time  from  his  private  affairs  which 
would  be  needed  to  overthrow  the  machine  and  keep  it  in  permanent  exile  '  (The 
American  Spirit  of  Socialism,  pp.  178-79).  I  may  add  the  judgment  of  one  of 
the  most  serious  and  impartial  of  American  historians  : — '  It  is  certain  that  in 
no  Teutonic  nation  of  our  day  is  the  difference  so  marked  between  the  public 
and  private  standards  of  morality  as  in  the  United  States.  The  one  is  lower 
than  it  was  in  1860  ;  the  other,  inconsistent  as  it  may  seem,  is  higher  '  (Bhodes's 
History  of  the  United  States  from  the  Compromise  of  1850,  iii.  113). 


CAUSES  OF  AMERICAN   CORRUPTION  95 

which  exhibits  in  many  most  important  fields  a  level  of  moral 
excellence  that  very  few  European  countries  have  attained, 
should  permit  itself  to  be  governed,  and  represented  among 
the  nations,  in  the  manner  I  have  described.  How  strange 
it  is,  as  an  Italian  statesman  once  said,  that  a  century 
which  has  produced  the  telegraph  and  the  telephone,  and  has 
shown  in  ten  thousand  forms  such  amazing  powers  of  adapta- 
tion and  invention,  should  have  discovered  no  more  successful 
methods  of  governing  mankind  !  The  fact,  however,  is  as  I 
have  presented  it,  and  there  are  few  more  curious  inquiries 
than  its  causes. 

The  foregoing  pages  will,  I  think,  have  at  least  shown  the 
chief  sources  from  which  the  corruption  has  sprung.  To 
quote  once  more  the  words  of  Mr.  Bryce  :  '  Every  feature  of 
the  machine  is  the  result  of  patent  causes.  The  elective 
offices  are  so  numerous  that  ordinary  citizens  cannot  watch 
them,  and  cease  to  care  who  gets  them  ;  the  conventions  come 
so  often  that  busy  men  cannot  serve  in  them ;  the  minor 
offices  are  so  unattractive  that  able  men  do  not  stand  for 
them.  The  primary  lists  are  so  contrived  that  only  a  fraction 
of  the  party  get  on  them,  and  of  this  fraction  many  are  too 
lazy,  or  too  busy,  or  too  careless  to  attend.  The  mass  of  the 
voters  are  ignorant ;  knowing  nothing  about  the  personal 
merits  of  the  candidates,  they  are  ready  to  follow  their  leaders 
like  sheep.  Even  the  better  class,  however  they  may  grumble, 
are  swayed  by  the  inveterate  habit  of  party  loyalty,  and  prefer 
a  bad  candidate  of  their  own  party  to  a  (probably  no  better) 
candidate  of  the  other  party.  It  is  less  trouble  to  put  up 
with  impure  officials,  costly  city  governments,  a  jobbing 
State  legislature,  an  inferior  sort  of  Congressman,  than  to 
sacrifice  one's  own  business  in  the  effort  to  set  things 
right.  Thus  the  machine  works  on,  and  grinds  out  places, 
power,  and  the  opportunities  of  illicit  gain  to  those  who 
manage  it.'  ' 

These  things,  however,  would  not  be  acquiesced  in  if  it 
were  not  that  an  admirable  written  Constitution,  enforced  by 
a  powerful  and  vigilant  Supreme  Court,  had  restricted  to  small 

'  Brvce,  ii.  449. 


96  DEMOCRACY   AND'    LIBERTY 

limits  the  possibilities  of  misgovernment.  All  the  rights 
that  men  value  the  most  are  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  a 
tyrannical  majority.  Congress  is  debarred  by  the  Constitu- 
tion from  making  any  law  prohibiting  the  free  exercise  of 
religion,  or  abridging  the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press, 
or  the  right  of  assembly,  or  the  right  of  petition.  No  person 
can  be  deprived  of  life,  liberty,  or  property  without  due  pro- 
cess of  law.  All  the  main  articles  of  what  British  statesmen 
would  regard  as  necessary  liberties  are  guaranteed,  and  pro- 
perty is  so  fenced  round  by  constitutional  provisions  that 
confiscatory  legislation  becomes  almost  impossible.  No 
private  property  can  be  taken  for  public  use  without  just 
compensation,  and  the  Federal  Constitution  contains  an 
invaluable  provision  forbidding  any  State  to  pass  any  law 
impairing  the  obligation  of  contracts.  The  danger  of  partial 
or  highly  graduated  taxation  voted  by  the  many  and  falling 
on  the  few  has  been,  in  a  great  measure,  guarded  against  by 
the  clauses  in  the  Constitution  providing  that  representa- 
tives and  direct  taxes  shall  be  apportioned  among  the  States 
according  to  their  population  ;  that  no  capitation  or  other 
direct  tax  shall  be  laid  unless  in  proportion  to  the  census,  and 
that  all  duties,  imposts,  and  excises  shall  be  uniform  through 
the  United  States.  The  judgment  of  the  Supreme  Court 
condemning  the  income-tax  in  1894  brought  into  clear  relief 
the  full  force  and  meaning  of  these  provisions.  Neither  Con- 
gress nor  the  State  legislatures  can  pass  any  Bill  of  attainder 
or  any  ex  post  facto  law  punishing  acts  which  were  not 
punishable  when  they  were  committed. 

At  the  same  time,  the  number  and  magnitude  of  the 
majorities  that  are  required  to  effect  any  organic  change  in 
the  Federal  Constitution  are  so  great  that  such  changes  be- 
come almost  impossible.  They  have,  in  fact,  never,  since  the 
earliest  days  of  the  Constitution,  been  effected  on  any  impor- 
tant subject,  except  during  the  wholly  abnormal  period  that 
immediately  followed  the  Civil  War,  when  the  political  in- 
dependence of  the  Southern  States  was  for  a  time  destroyed. 
The  concurrence  of  majorities  in  two-thirds,  and  afterwards 
in  three-fourths,  of  the  States  which  is  required  for  such  an 


RESTRICTIONS   ON   CORRUPTION  97 

organic  change  becomes  more  and  more  difficult  to  obtain 
as  the  States  multiply,  with  increasing  population.  Other 
guarantees  of  good  government — very  notably,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  the  character  of  the  Senate — have  been  enfeebled  by 
time  and  corruption  and  the  increasing  power  of  the  machine ; 
but  this  one,  at  least,  almost  automatically  strengthens. 

In  the  State  constitutions  the  same  system  of  checks 
prevails.  All  men,  in  the  language  of  several  of  the  con- 
stitutions, have  '  natural,  essential,  inalienable  rights,'  and 
among  them  that  of  '  enjoying  and  defending  their  lives  and 
liberties,  and  acquiring,  possessing  and  protecting  property.' 
The  Constitution  of  Alabama  expresses  admirably  the  best 
spirit  of  American  statesmanship  when  it  states  that  '  the 
sole  and  only  legitimate  end  of  government  is  to  protect  the 
citizen  in  the  enjoyment  of  life,  liberty  and  property,  and 
when  the  Government  assumes  other  functions,  it  is  usurpa- 
tion and  oppression.'  Politicians  may  job  and  cheat  and 
inaladminister,  but  they  can  only  do  so  within  narrow  limits, 
and  if  the  evils  become  too  great,  conventions  are  called, 
which  impose  restrictions  on  the  State  legislatures.  These 
bodies  are  forbidden  to  borrow  or  to  tax  beyond  certain 
limits,  or  to  touch  a  long  list  of  specified  subjects,  or  to  sit 
for  more  than  once  in  two  years  or  for  more  than  a  denned 
number  of  days.1  If  they  contrive — as  they  undoubtedly 
do — to  heap  up  a  great  deal  of  corrupt  expenditure  within 
these  limits,  the  more  respectable  class  consider  that  the 
country  is  very  rich,  and  can  afford  it,  and  that  it  is  better 
to  allow  this  corruption  to  go  on  than  to  give  up  private 
business  to  prevent  it.  A  curious  kind  of  optimism  also 
prevails  largely  in  America.  It  is  believed  that,  provided 
the  most  important  things  are  secured,  it  is  better  to  allow 
every  one  to  vote  and  organise  as  he  pleases ;  that  there 
will  ultimately  be  a  survival  of  the  fittest ;  that  in  course  of 
time,  and  after  prolonged  and  costly  experiences,  the  turbid 
element  of  corruption  will  clarify,  and  its  worst  constituents 
sink  like  sediment  to  the  bottom. 

1  See.  e.fjr.,  the  long  and  curious  list  of  the  limitations  imposed  on  the  Penn- 
sylvian  Legislature  in  Ford  (i.  32-H5.) 

VOL.   I.  H 


98  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Another  consideration,  which  has  hardly,  I  think,  been 
sufficiently  recognised  among  the  guiding  influences  of 
American  politics,  is  the  complete  separation  of  Church  and 
State.  American  writers,  probably  with  good  reason,  con- 
sider this  one  of  the  great  successes  of  their  government. 
In  spite  of  the  Episcopal  Church  establishment  that  once 
existed  in  Virginia,  and  the  intensely  theocratic  character 
which  New  England  Governments  for  a  long  time  presented, 
the  idea  of  the  connection  of  Church  and  State  did  not 
strike  root  in  America,  and  public  opinion,  within  as  well  as 
without  the  Churches,  seems  cordially  to  approve  of  the 
separation.  But  one  consequence  has  been  to  diminish 
greatly  the  interest  in  national  politics.  Every  one  who 
knows  England  knows  how  large  a  proportion  of  the  best 
men  who  are  interested  in  politics  are  mainly  interested  in 
their  ecclesiastical  aspects,  in  questions  directly  or  indirectly 
connected  with  Establishment  or  Disestablishment.  All 
this  class  of  questions  is  in  America  removed  from  the 
sphere  of  politics. 

That  public  opinion  can  be  powerfully  aroused  there  in 
a  worthy  cause  no  one  will  question.  Nowhere  in  the  present 
century  has  it  acquired  a  greater  volume  and  momentum 
than  in  the  War  of  Secession.  The  self-sacrifice,  the  una- 
nimity, the  tenacity  of  purpose,  the  indomitable  courage 
displayed  on  each  side  by  the  vast  citizen  armies  in  that 
long  and  terrible  struggle,  form  one  of  the  most  splendid 
pages  in  nineteenth-century  history.  I  can  well  recollect 
how  Laurence  Oliphant,  who  had  excellent  means  of  judg- 
ing both  wars,  was  accustomed  to  say  that  no  fighting  in 
the  Franco-German  War  was  comparable  to  the  tenacity 
with  which  in  America  every  village,  almost  every  house, 
was  defended  or  assailed ;  and  the  appalling  sacrifice  of  life 
during  the  struggle  goes  far  to  justify  this  judgment.  Nor 
were  the  nobler  qualities  of  the  American  people  less  clearly 
manifested  by  the  sequel  of  the  war.  The  manner  in  which 
those  gigantic  armies  melted  away  into  the  civil  population, 
casting  aside,  without  apparent  effort,  all  military  tastes  and 
habits,    and   throwing   themselves    into    the    vast  fields   of 


THE   WAR  AND   THE    DEBT  99 

industry  that  were  opened  by  the  peace,  forms  one  of  the  most 
striking  spectacles  in  history  ;  and  the  noble  humanity  shown 
to  the  vanquished  enemy  is  a  not  less  decisive  proof  of  the 
high  moral  level  of  American  opinion.  It  was  especially 
admirable  in  the  very  trying  moments  that  followed  the 
assassination  of  Lincoln,  and  it  forms  a  memorable  contrast 
to  the  extreme  vindictiveness  displayed  by  their  forefathers, 
in  the  days  of  the  Revolution,  towards  their  loyalist  fellow- 
countrymen.  America  rose  at  this  time  to  a  new  place  and 
dignity  in  the  concert  of  nations.  Europe  had  long  seen  in 
her  little  more  than  an  amorphous,  ill-cemented  industrial 
population.  It  now  learned  to  recognise  the  true  character- 
istics of  a  great  nation.  There  was  exaggeration,  but  there 
was  also  no  little  truth,  in  the  words  of  Lowell : 

Earth's  biggest  country  got  her  soul, 
And  risen  up  Earth's  greatest  nation. 

Jobbing  and  corruption  and  fraud  flourished,  indeed,  abun- 
dantly during  the  war,  but  the  lines  of  national  greatness 
and  genuine  patriotism  were  far  more  conspicuous.  In 
times  of  peace,  no  nation  has  ever  been  more  distinguished 
than  America  for  the  generosity  shown  by  her  citizens  in 
supporting  public  institutions  and  public  causes. 

Her  treatment  of  her  gigantic  debt  was  also  a  great  sur- 
prise to  Europe.  It  was  a  common  prediction  among 
shrewd  judges  that  the  peace  would  speedily  be  followed  by 
national  bankruptcy,  and  that  a  democratic  nation  would 
never  endure  the  burden  of  a  national  debt  which  was  at 
that  time  by  far  the  largest  in  the  world.  Hardly  any  one 
appears  to  have  foreseen  that  this  democracy  would  surpass 
all  the  monarchies  in  history  in  its  unparalleled  persevering 
and  successful  efforts  to  pay  off  its  debt.  It  is  true  that  its 
motives  in  doing  so  were  far  from  being  purely  patriotic  and 
disinterested.  The  payment  of  the  debt  was  indissolubly 
connected  with  the  adoption  of  a  system  of  severe  Protection. 
Manufacturers  by  such  Protection  made  colossal  fortunes. 
The  working  class  in  America  seem  to  have  very  generally 
adopted  the  opinion  that  a  protective  system,  by  raising  the 
price  of  the  articles  they  make  and  excluding  similar  articles 

H  2 


IOO  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

made  in  other  countries,  has  an  effect,  in  raising  wages  and 
increasing  employment,  which  is  very  beneficial  to  their 
interests.  Multitudes  of  Americans  in  the  Northern  States 
had  purchased  national  bonds  at  a  time  when  they  were 
greatly  depreciated,  and  they  gained  enormously  by  being 
paid  off  at  par.  At  the  time  when  the  policy  of  paying  off 
the  debt  was  adopted,  the  section  of  the  country  where  these 
bonds  were  exclusively  held,  where  Protection  was  always 
most  popular,  and  where  manufactures  chiefly  existed,  had 
acquired,  through  the  war,  a  complete  ascendency.  These 
things  do  much  to  explain  the  course  that  was  adopted, 
but  it  was  a  course  which  involved  sacrifices  that  few  nations 
could  have  endured,  and  it  was  carried  out  with  an  energy 
and  perseverance  that  no  nation  could  have  surpassed. 

The  general  legislation  in  America  also  ranks  very  high. 
Many  of  the  worst  abuses  of  British  law  either  never  existed 
there,  or  were  redressed  at  a  much  earlier  period  than  in 
England.  Her  penal  code,  her  educational  laws,  her  laws 
about  the  sale  and  transfer  of  landed  property,  were  for  a  long 
period  far  better  than  those  of  Great  Britain  ;  and  the  fact 
that  no  religious  disqualifications  were  recognised  saved  her 
from  struggles  that  have  largely  occupied  many  generations 
of  English  reformers.  I  do  not  think  that,  in  modern 
times,  legislation  has  been  better  or  the  spirit  of  Keform 
more  active  in  the  republic  than  in  the  monarchy,  but  I 
believe  the  best  observers  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
recognise  the  two  systems  as  substantially  on  the  same  plane 
of  excellence,  though  each  country  may  learn  many  things 
from  the  other.  The  American  type  of  legislator  is  emi- 
nently shrewd,  businesslike,  and  free  from  prejudice,  and  he 
is  quite  prepared  to  make  good  laws,  as  long  as  they  do 
not  affect  injuriously  his  personal  and  party  interests. 
Public  opinion  insists  on  this,  and  it  makes,  as  we  have  seen, 
occasional  spasmodic  efforts  to  diminish  the  great  corruption 
of  American  political  life. 

America,  during  the  last  three  quarters  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  has  changed  greatly.  It  is  very  different  from  the 
country  which    Dickens  and  Mrs.  Trollope  described,   and 


TOCQUEVILLE  IOI 

even  the  great  work  of  Tocqueville  occasionally  wears  an 
aspect  of  some  unreality.  The  population  of  the  United  States 
has  quadrupled  since  Tocqueville  visited  it,  and  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  many  conditions  should  have  been  changed  and 
some  predictions  falsified.  Tocqueville  believed  much  more 
in  the  permanence  of  republican  institutions  in  America 
than  in  the  permanence  of  the  Union.  He  predicted  very 
confidently  that  the  power  of  the  Federal  Government  would 
steadily  decline  and  the  power  of  the  separate  States 
increase ;  that  any  serious  resistance  of  the  States  to  the 
Federal  Union  must  certainly  succeed ;  that  the  Union 
would  only  endure  as  long  as  all  the  States  continued  to 
wish  to  form  part  of  it.1  The  War  of  the  Secession  showed 
that  he  was  mistaken,  and  it  produced  for  some  years  a 
strong  tendency  in  the  direction  of  centralisation. 

In  many  respects,  however,  he  judged  with  singular 
accuracy  both  the  dangers  and  the  tendencies  of  American 
political  life.  He  deplored  the  custom,  which  had  already 
begun  in  his  time,  of  making  the  judges  elective.  He  pre- 
dicted that  the  habit  of  treating  representatives  as  mere 
delegates  bound  by  imperative  instructions  would  destroy  the 
essence  of  representative  government.  He  dwelt  with  much 
perspicuity  on  the  dangers  in  a  pure  democracy  of  the 
multiplication  of  great  towns ;  on  the  gradual  displacement 
of  power  which  would  follow  the  rise  of  new  territories 
eclipsing  or  superseding  the  old  States ;  on  the  moral  and 
political  effects  of  slavery,  and  of  the  increase  of  the  negro 
race ;  on  the  deep  and  menacing  line  of  division  which  the 
combined  influence  of  slavery  and  climate,  and  the  resulting 
difference  of  character  and  habits  were  drawing  between  the 
Northern  and  the  Southern  States.  He  imagined,  indeed, 
that  slavery  would  make  it  the  special  interest  of  the  latter 
to  cling  to  the  Union,  as  they  had  every  reason  to  fear  the 
consequences  if  they  were  left  alone  with  their  negroes ;  but 
he    doubted    whether    this    bond    of    interest    would    prove 

1  Democratic,  en  Am^riquc,  ii.  351  ;">,  383  85.  He  suggests,  however,  in 
one  place  that  a  war,  or  a  great  internal  crisis,  might  possibly  arrest  this  ten- 
dency (p.  398). 


102  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

ultimately  as  strong  as  the  antagonism  of  sentiment.  The 
system  of  party  in  America  he  never  seems  to  have  clearly 
understood,  and  he  altogether  failed  to  foresee  the  enormous 
power  and  the  corrupting  influence  of  '  the  Machine.' 

The  America  he  described  was,  in  some  respects,  very 
unlike  that  of  our  own  day.  He  speaks  of  a  despotism  of 
opinion  which  prevented  all  free  expression  of  independent, 
eccentric,  or  heretical  ideas  ;  of  American  dislike  to  general 
ideas  and  theoretical  discoveries ;  of  a  jealousy  of  wealth 
which  compelled  rich  men,  like  the  Jews  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
to  abstain  from  all  the  ostentation  of  luxury.  These  things 
are  wholly  changed.  America  is  no  longer  a  country  with- 
out pauperism  and  without  great  wealth.  It  contains  some 
of  the  largest  fortunes  in  the  world.  American  wealth  is 
certainly  by  no  means  averse  to  ostentation,  and  is  rather 
peculiarly  apt  to  take  forms  that  are  dangerous  and  injurious 
to  the  community.  We  are  accustomed  to  hear,  in  some 
quarters,  the  enormous  landed  properties  possessed  by  a  few 
English  landlords  described  as  a  great  evil ;  but  as  long  as 
those  who  wish  to  buy  land,  or  to  take  land  on  a  long  lease, 
have  no  difficulty  in  doing  so,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  what  real 
interest  is  seriously  injured.  The  power  the  great  landlord 
possesses  may,  no  doubt,  be  abused ;  but  great  abuse  is  neither 
easy  nor  common,  while  the  benefits  resulting  to  the  nation 
from  the  existence  of  this  class  are  very  real  and  evident. 
But,  of  all  forms  that  great  wealth  can  take,  I  know  of  none 
that  gives  greater  opportunities  or  temptations  of  abuse  than 
that  of  the  railway  king,  who  controls  for  his  own  selfish 
purposes  the  chief  lines  of  communication  in  the  country. 
In  no  other  country  has  this  class  of  men  been  so  prominent 
as  in  America,  and  in  no  other  has  their  power  been 
more  hideously  abused.  Nowhere  else  have  there  been  such 
scandalous  examples  of  colossal,  ostentatious  fortunes  built 
up  by  reckless  gambling,  by  the  acquisition  of  gigantic 
monopolies,  by  a  deadly  and  unscrupulous  competition  bring- 
ing ruin  into  countless  homes,  by  a  systematic  subordina- 
tion of  public  to  private  interests,  by  enormous  political 
and   municipal  corruption.      If  such  men  as  Lincoln,  and 


AMERICAN    RAILROADS   AND   TRUSTS  103 

Emerson,  and  Lowell  have,  in  our  generation,  represented 
with  supreme  perfection  the  distinctive  beauty  of  the  Ameri- 
can type,  such  a  career  as  that  of  Jay  Gould  has,  in  its  own 
way,  been  not  less  truly  characteristic. 

Integrity  in  the  management  of   great  companies   and 
corporations  is  certainly  not,  in  these  latter  days,  a  character- 
istic of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic, 
but  I  believe  it  is  even  less  so  in  America  than  in  England. 
The  contrast  between  the  management  of  railways  in  England 
and  in  the  United  States  is  extremely  significant.     America 
is  now  one  of  the  richest  countries  in  the  world,  and    its 
people  have  certainly  no  superiors  in  business  talent.     Yet 
it  has  been  stated  on  excellent  authority  that,  in  the  fifteen 
years  between  1875  and  1890,  the  aggregate  foreclosure  sales 
on  the  railways  of  the  United  States  comprised  50,525  miles, 
with  #2,865,000,000  of  combined  stocks   and  bonds,   or  an 
average  of  #191,000,000  per  annum.     In  1890,  twenty-nine 
companies  were  subject  to  foreclosure  sales.1     A  great  rail- 
way   authority,  speaking  in  the  beginning  of    1894,  said  : 
1  There  is  no  less  than  one-fourth  of  the  American  railways 
in  extent  of  mileage  and  capital  now  under  the  control  of 
the  courts  of  law,  and  during  the  year  1893  alone  seventy- 
four  railway  companies  including  a  mileage  of  30,000  miles 
and  a  capital  of  360  millions  sterling,  passed  into  the  hands 
of  receivers.' 2    Making  the  fullest  allowance  for  trade  depres- 
sions and  vicissitudes,  and  for  currency  troubles,  what  an 
amount   of   gigantic  and  deliberate  dishonesty,  as  well  as 
unscrupulous  gambling,  does  such  a  state  of  things  represent ! 
The  system  of  monopolising  articles  of  the  first  necessity, 
under  the  name  of  Trusts,  in  order  to  force  up  their  price, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  mischievous  forms  that  modern 
industry  has  assumed,  has  been  especially  American,  and  the 
origin  of  some  of  the  greatest  American  fortunes. 

These  evils   are  certainly  not  unconnected  with  political 

1  North  American  Review,  1891,  p.  S4 ;  see,  too,  Professor  Kly's  Socialism, 
pp.  270-71. 

*  Speech  of  Sir  Henry  Tyler  at  a  meeting  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway 
Company,  April  30,  1894,  p.  4. 


104  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

conditions.     In  a  country  where  there  is  no  rank,  and  where 
political  eminence  gives  little  or  no  dignity,  the  thirst  for 
wealth    acquires    a    maddening    power.      Corrupt    political 
---  organisations  come  in  constant  contact  with  great  railway 

and  industrial  corporations,  and  each  can  do  much  to  assist 
T  *  and  to  demoralise  the  other.     Even  independently  of  these 

mutual  services,  there  is  an  analogy  between  the  two  things. 
To  run  a  company  is  very  like  running  the  machine,  and  the 
low  standard  which  public  opinion  admits  in  the  one  is, 
not  unnaturally,  extended  to  the  other. 

Slavery   has  passed  away  in  America,  and  with  it  one 
//*  great  blot  and  danger  has  disappeared  ;  but  the  negro  race, 

with  its  doubtful  future,  remains.  The  character  of  the  con- 
w  \u*Ast4  .  stituencies  has  been  profoundly  lowered  by  the  negro  voters, 
c^%^^^/u^'  and  the  extraordinary  prevalence  and  ferocity  of  lynch  law 
ir^rAx^c*^  /f  seems  to  show  that  the  old  habits  of  violence  which  slavery 
'  '  /  jj     did  so  much  to  foster  are  by  no  means  extinct.     A  great  im- 

jjl'^    .       provement   however,    has  incontestably  taken  place  in  the 
^^x^uAi^^    character  of  American  foreign  policy  since  the  close  of  the 
ufa*?*'  war.     The  many  violent  and  unscrupulous  acts  that  once 

^       marked  that  policy  were  nearly  all  distinctly  traceable  to  the 
tr{.  xc*j£  ascendency  of  Southern  statesmen.     Something  was  due  to 

•  .     *— ^  the  character  of  the  men,  for  the  conditions  of  slave  labour 

y_*  A         produce  a  type  which  is  much  more  military  and  adventurous 
^*^-^/ *  ->.than  pacific  and  industrial.     But  the  main  cause  was  the  im- 
<^*I^uu<ylu/^-peYious  necessity  imposed  on  these  States  of  acquiring  new- 
slave  territories,  in  order  to  counteract  the  increasing  pre- 
ponderance which  increasing  population  was  giving  to  the 
Northern  States,  and  thus  secure  their  share  of  power  in 
the    Union.      This    was    the    origin    of    the  annexation  _of 
£rd4  t/f.        Texas ;    of   the   conquest  of   New  Mexico    and   California  ; 
of   the    filibustering   expedition  of   General  Lopez    against 
Cuba  in  1851  ;    of   the   unscrupulous  attempts   to   force  a 
quarrel  upon  Spain  in  1854,  in  order  to  find  a  pretext  for 
tf^  seizing  Cuba  ;  of  the  shamele_ss  Ostend  manifesto,  in  which 

V  /  /  American  ministers  declared  their  determination  to  acquire 
Cuba  by  force  if  they  could  not  do  so  by  purchase  ;  of  the 
countenance  that  was  given  to  the  filibustering  expedition 


fX^U^U^^c^) 


AMERICAN   CIVILISATION  105 

of  William  Walker  to  Nicaragua  in  1857  ;  of  the  renewed 
attempts  to  acquire  Cuba  in  1858  and  1859.  Since  the 
question  of  secession  has  been  settled  this  spirit  of  aggres- 
sion seems  to  have  wholly  passed  out  of  American  foreign  -n^v 
policy.  There  have  been  occasions  when  American  states- 
men, in  order  to  win  the  favour  of  some  class  of  voters,  f^ 
have  shown  a  disregard  of  the  courtesies  and  decorum  of 
international  dealings  which  no  European  country  would 
have  displayed,  but  in  the  great  lines  of  her  foreign  policy, 
America  has  of  late  years  been  in  general  eminently  honour- 
able and  unaggressive.  It  is  no  small  thing  that  this  vast 
section  of  the  human  race,  so  rich  in  the  promise  of  the 
future,  has  wholly  escaped  the  militarism  that  is  corrodingf 
the  greatest  Powers  of  Europe,  and  that  its  gigantic  energies 
have  been  steadily  directed  in  the  paths  of  peace. 

The  feature  of   American  civilisation  which   has   most   }CC<vt(  haZ 
struck  European  observers  has  been  its  extremely  one-sided    ,y  -    , 

character.     It  is  a  supremely  great   industrial    civilisation,  ^  p»vi 

generating  to  the  highest  degree  the  qualities,  capacities  and  ^  /v*~~*^> 
inventions  that  are  needed  for  industrial  life,  and  bringing  in  wttluAy-* 
its  train  widely  diffused  comfort,  education  and  self-respect ;  iA±+uJfc*j>  a- 
but  there  are  certain  sides  in  which  it  still  ranks  much  below  *  / 

the  civilisations  of  Europe.     Tocqueville  and  his  generation        •    >:     \, 
were  much  struck  with  this.     Tocqueville  said  that  America  ' 

had  hitherto  produced  only  a  very  small  number  of  remark- ^  "  ***" 
able  writers,  that  she  had  produced  no  great  historians,  and  /******-* 
no  poets,  and  that  there  were  third-rate  towns  in  Europe  Ccii  tti*~. 
which  published  in  a  year  more  works  of  literature  than  allc-vti^K^^  nC^c 
the  twenty-four  States  of  America.1     Mill,  writing  in  1840,t**.aAn*usm~? 
speaks  of  '  the  marked  absence  in  America  of  original  efforts afjcx*<b*  trC+ 
in  literature,  philosophy,  and  the  fine  arts  ;  ' 2  while  Carlyle,  a^-         ^p    ^/ 
few  years  later,  very  roughly  declared  that  America  had  still         •    _£_  *  0 
her  battle  to  fight  ;  that  though  the  quantity  of  her  cotton, 
dollars,  industry  and  resources  was  almost  unspeakable,  she    .^,    fj 
had  as  yet  producedno  great  thought,  or  noble  thing  that 
one  could  worship  or  loyally  admire  ;  that  Her  chief  feat  in  ^t*^^  -,  .~ 
history  lwf  been  to  beget,/ with  a  rapidity  beyond  recorded 

1  Democratic  en  Ame'rique,  11.  23ji»__ — — "^iv*  *  '  Dissertations,  ii.  42. 


1 06  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

example,  eighteen  millions  of  the  greatest  bores  ever  seen  in 
this  world  before." l 

This  last  judgment  is  certainly  more  remarkable  for  its 
vigour  than  for  its  judicial  impartiality.     Since  Carlyle  wrote 
America   has   produced  some    admirable  literature ;  it   has 
i-t    \A4Hs*       produced  several  considerable  historians,  some  graceful  and 
justly  popular  poets,  some  excellent  critics,  novelists  and 
moralists,  and  a  vein  of  humour  which  is  perhaps  more  dis- 
tinctively American  than  any  other  element  in  its  literature.  It 
has,  especially,  produced  some  of  the  most  beautiful  literary 
lives    in    the  whole   history  of   letters — lives   true,   simple, 
laborious  and  affectionate,  singularly  free  from  the  jealousies 
and  extravagances  that  deface    so  many  pages  of   literary 
biography,  absolutely  free  from  that  taint  of  impurity  which 
has  passed  so  deeply  into  the  contemporary  literatures   of 
Europe.     But,  when  all  this    is    said,  we    cannot   but    ask 
whether  the  America  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  produced 
4-^L'  M^ur^     much  in  the  fields  of  thoughts  or  literature,  or  art  that  is 
«^v/^w^w>*****t^ily  great  ;    anything  comparable   to   what   Germany    or 
»**  <dL**<cfci'  -    France  has  produced  during  the  same  period  ;  anything  com- 
a  1       ~t\  f  parable  to  what  might  have  been  expected  from  a  rich,  highly 

J  *aJnA>of0^  on^i  v>a™'^  na.+.irm   which  now  numbers  more  than 


'  A_r  ;   /  "educated,  and  pacific  nation, 

r\r  sixty  millions  of  souls,  and  is  placed,  in  some  respects,  in  more 

Xi*>~lux'         '   favourable  circumstances  than  any  other  nation  in  the  world. 

%  r*^^**T^  A  curious  passage  in  an  essay  on  Channing  which  Eenan  wrote 

"-p^some  forty  years  ago  describes  the  impression  which  American 

/^civilisation  at  that  time  left  on  the  mind  of  one  of  the  most 


•  i»  brilliant  of  Frenchmen.    '  If  it  were  necessary,'  he  says,  '  that 

'Italy  with  her  past,  or  America  with  her  future,  should  be 
v\ti«i  £'«'*~*A*^T}tj)^ed  out  of  existence,  which  would  leave  the  greater  void 
Attri^c^jiti+^fifohe  heart  of  humanity?  What  has  all  America  produced 
t»  tv*WL-  *■**•  that  can  compare  with  a  ray  of  that  infinite  glory  that  adorns 
Uoul^m  \Jkjb*£*  an  Italian  town,  even  of  the  second  or  third  order — Florence, 
j  ^  JffJ,S-  Pisa,  Sienna,  Perugia  ?  Before  New  York  and  Boston  reach 
A  -      0  in  the  scale  of  human  greatness  a  rank  that  is  comparable 

r^r^y  to  these  towns,  how  many  steps  have  they  still  to  make  ! '  - 

Vy        c±.«V*+±*j~,  d  '  Latter-Day  Pamphlets:  '  The  Present  Time.' 

Cu^L^dkCfj^.  ^^  v**oVUi*/         "  Etudes  d'Histoire  Beligieuse. 


PAUCITY   CCF   LITERATURE  A*   AMERICA  1 07 

There  is,  110/ doubt,  exaggeration  in  such  language  ; 
there  are  fonW  of  very  genuine  human  greatness  that 
it  fails  to  recognise.  But  it  ^s  impossible  not  to  feel  that, 
on  the  intellectual  and  aesthetic  side,  America  has  not  yet 


fulfilled    her  part,  and  that  an  unduly  large  proportion  of 
her  greatest  achievements  belong  to  a  time  when  she  had 
not  a  tithe  of  her  present  population  and  wealth.    Wajyiing=i__--r__^ 
ton  and  Franklin  and   Hamilton,  the  Constitution  of  1787,    Cy~^C .  ^^\ 
the  Federalist  and  the  Commentaries  of  Judge  Story,  have  v(^g_  ^/ 
not  been  eclipsed.  -,  ss    '   • 

Many  causes   have    been  assigned   for   this  intellectual  /  'jr 

sterility,  continuing  long  after  America  had  taken  her  place 
among  the  great  nations  of  the  world.  Tocqueville  believed 
that  there  was  no  country  with  less  intellectual  independ- 
ence and  less  real  liberty  of  discussion  than  America,  or  in 
which  the  expression  of  unpopular  opinion  was  more  bitterly 
resented ;  and  he  said  that  there  were  no  great  American 
writers  because  '  literary  genius  cannot  exist  without  liberty  ___•.  * 

of  thought,  and  there  is  no  liberty  of  thought  in  America.'  '   ^n^c^f^y^f' 
Mill,  expanding  another  .passage  from  Tocqueville,  described    "*"  u*^v  - 
America  as,  '  intellectually  speaking,  a  province  of  England —    \*  *C<r>^v~4— 
a  province  in  which  the. great  occupation  of  the  inhabitants  ^  c-^^Cvaj 
is  making  money,  because  for  that  they  have  peculiar  facili-     ,  / 
ties,   and  are,  therefore,  like  the  people  of  Manchester  or  n  • "// 

Birmingham,  for  the  most  part  contented  to  receive  the  Sl^rt^P^^*^- 
higher  branches  of  knowledge  ready-made  from  the  capital."2  t^/  U^tfC^ct. 
Maine  attributed  much  to  the  long  refusal  of  the  Congress  to_ 
grant  an  international  copyright.  The  want  of  such  copy-  _ 
right  effectually  crushed  American  authorship  in  the  Home 
market  by  the  competition  of  the  unpaid  and  appropriated 
works  of  British  authors,  and  '  condemned  the  whole  American 
community  to  a  literary  servitude  unparalleled  in  the  history 
of  thought.'  4 

1  Democratic  en  AmAriquc,  ii.  149,  lo2. 

2  Dissertations,  ii.  43  ;  compare  Tocqueville,  ii.  58.  I  do  not  think  Mill's 
illustration  a  happy  one.  Most  English  books,  no  doubt,  are  published  in 
London,  but  the  intellectual  life  that  produces  them  comes  from  all  parts  of 
the  kingdom,  and  in  a  very  large  degree  from  the  great  provincial  towns. 

3  Maine's  Popular  Government,  p.  247. 


'7' 


J^ 


1 08  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

•«  In  all  this  there  is  much  truth  ;  but  it  must,  I  think,  be 

added  that  modern  democracy  is  not  favourable  to  the_hjgher 

rf^  -forms  of  intellectuai  life~    "Democracy  levels  down  quite  as 

-much  as  it  levels  up.    'The  belief  in  the  equality  of  man, 

JtHe  total  absence  of  the  spirit  of  reverence,  the  apotheosis 

the 


'dA 


t//^        y'l    of    the   average  judgment,  Jbhe   fever   and   the   haste, 

jtS     /~  advertising  and  sensational  spirit  which  American  life  so 

tJy/'  ^''abundantly  generates,  and  wThich   the   American   press  so 

^  \y  **!       *  ^fividly  reflects,  are  all  little  favourable  to  the  production  of 

Afis'     *"}  c'     great  works  of  beauty  or  of  thought,  of  long  meditation,  of 

•  yr  sober  taste,  of  serious,    uninterrupted  study.     Such  works 

hr  have  been  produced  in  America,  but  in  small  numbers  and 

under   adverse   conditions.     The  habit,  too,    which  has  so 

long  existed  in   America,  and  which  is  rapidly  growing  in 

England,  of  treating  the  private  lives  of  eminent  men  as  if 

they  were  public  property  ;  of  forcing  their  opinions  on  all 

subjects  into  constant  publicity  hy  newspaper  interviews  ;  of 

multiplying  demands  upon  their  time  for  public  functions 

for  which  they  have  no  special  aptitude,  adds  greatly  to  the 

evil/7   Among  the  advantages  which  England  derives  from 

/     c  rtjJUift^ft  aristocracy,  not  the   least   is  the  service  it   renders  to 

y  ^Y    ^.     '  literature  by  providing  a  class  of  men  who  are  admirably 

wk^^^^p^^   for   presidential    and   other   public   functions,  which 

■ -fC/^  another   society   would    have    been    largely   thrown    on 

**  men   of   letters.     No  one  can  fail  to  observe  how   large  a 

tJU*^  proportion  of  the  Americans  who  have  shown  distinguished 

talent  in  literature  and  art  have    sought  in  European  life 

a   more    congenial    atmosphere   than    they   could    find   at 

home. 

In    spite  of  all   retarding   influences,    America   will,  no 

doubt,  one  day  occupy  a  far  higher  position  than  at  present 

JbnAA  tA  '        in   the   intellectual  gm' danr.ft  of  thpf_wnrld.     It  is  probable 

bit  tukrftcrf    that    the    concession    of    international    copyright,    placing 

>  u_l      ff         American  authors  on  the  same  footing  with  foreign  ones,  will 

j        1      h     hsisten  that  day,  and  there  are  clear  signs  that  a  school  of 

^/u***/^  (T  ^  .  .  very  serious  scholarship  and  very  excellent  writing  is  arising 

OJhA-fcv  C4At^#mong  them.     Many  of  the  peccant  humours  of  the  body 

,  .    politic  will,  no  doubt,  be  ultimately  dispersed.     The  crudest, 

+^  'tfc-  t*^  ^i  <rK~A- 


rfc^r 


SHADOWS   ON   TPIE   FUTURE  109 

most  ignorant,  most  disorderly  elements  of  European  life 
have  been  poured  into  America  as  into  a  great  alembic,  and 
are   bepng  gradually  transformed    into  «a    new   type.     The  J£^,   J,  ^^ 
enormously  corrupting  influences  which  New  York  and  some  ^  ^L-^J,  7^-/ 
other  immigration  centres  have  exercised  on  American  poli- 
tics  must  diminish  when  they  cease  to  be  what  Americans/^Lt<z^' 
call  '  pivot  states,'  holding  the  balance  between  rival  parties, /W^-v* 
and  when  the  centre  of  power  moves  onward  towards  the 
west.     A  people  supremely  endowed  with  energy  and  intelli-     y      * 
gence,  and  among  whom  moral  and  religious  influences  are  ^      - 

very  strong,  can  scarcely  fail  sooner  or  later  to  mould  their  C<*yu+^A-+^ 
destinies  to  high  and  honourable  ends.  ~*~  £~^~<^ 

Optimism  certainly  reigns  more  widely  in  America  than  XtsUZ/tj-K  sL~ 
I  in  Europe,  and  Americans  are  the  best  judges  of  their  own  * 
J  '        institutions  and    future.     Serious  clouds  seem  to   hang  on 
kAA*tiheir   horizon.     The    decay,  in  some  parts  of  America,    of   .     /       s  /f- 
^k^v  family  life    through    the    excessive  facility  of  divorce ;  the/       ,   f 
<^,  6~alar^hing  prevalence  of  financial  dishonesty  on  a  large  scale  ;   l*yL*  ^  +(i*ur 
tl>e  strange  and  ominous  increase  of  ordinary  crime,  which  'V*'  *-*  ™-<-**c 
^contrasts  remarkably  with  its  steady  diminution  in  Great 
/Britain;1  the   profligacy  that    still  reigns  in  political    and 
/    municipal  life,  and  the  indifference  with  which  that  profli- 
/f^gacy  is  contemplated,  afford  much  ground  for  melancholy 
/j.' thought.     It  is  contrary  to  all  past  experience  that  politi- 
-/"^    cal  corruption   should  be  a  mere  excrescence  in  a  nation, 
affecting  either  slightly  or  not  at  all  the  deeper  springs  of 
national   morals.     As    the    country    fills    up,    as    national 
expenses  increase,  as  the  problems  ot  government  become 
more   difficult   and    delicate,    the   necessity   of  placing  the 
Administration  in  all  its  branches  in  trustworthy  and  honest 
hands  must  be  more  felt,  and  the  future  of  America  seems 
to  me  very  largely  to  depend  upon  the  success  with  which 
her  reformers  can  attain  this  end.     Something  considerable, 
as  we  have  seen,  has  been  already   done  ;  yet  some  of  the 
worst  instances  of  corrupt  rings  have  been  posterior  to  the  » 

downfall    of  the  Tammany    rule  at  New  York,  which   was 

1  See  on  this  subject  a  remarkable  article,  by  Mr.  Lea,  in  The  Forum,  August 
1894. 


1  IO 


DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 


supposed  to  mark  the  beginning  of  a  new  era.  The 
evidence  which  was  brought  before  the  Senate  of  New  York 
in  1894,  disclosing  the  enormous  and  systematic  corruption 
of  the  police  force  of  that  great  city,  is  in  itself  sufficient  to 
^how  how  little  this  hope  has  been  fulfilled.1 

The  policy  of  Protection  in  America,  which  has  been 
rried  to  such  a  high  point  since  the  war,  is  no  new  thing, 
t  existed,  though  with  some  fluctuations,  through  a  great  part 
of  earlier  American  history  ;  2  the  high  duties  imposed  during 
the  war  were  amply  justified  by  the  necessity  of  obtaining 
money  for  its  support,  and  their  continuance  for  some  years 
after  the  peace  was  probably  justified  by  the  transcendent 
importance  of  reducing  rapidly  an  unparalleled  debt.  With 
the  ideas  that  are  now  floating  through  the  world,  nothing 
could  be  more  dangerous  than  for  a  pure  democracy,  in  times 
of  difficulty  or  poverty,  to  find  itself  burdened  with  an  enor- 
mous debt  taxation  for  the  fulfilment  of  ancient  contracts. 
The  statesmen  who  followed  the  war  have  at  least  secured 
America  from  this  danger.  But  the  immense  increase  of 
Protection,  which  began  with  the  Woollen  Act  of  1867  and 
the  Copper  Act  of  1869,  and  which  culminated  in  the 
McKinley  tariff,  was  largely  due  to  other  motives.  If  the 
best  American  authorities  may  be  trusted,  it  includes  as 
much  purely  class  legislation,  intended  to  support  class 
interests  and  carried  by  corrupt  means,  as  can  be  found  in 
the  most  effete  monarchy  of  Europe. 

The  wonderful  surplus  which  for  many  years  existed  in 
consequence  of  the  high  protective  duties  astonished  Europe, 
but  not  more  so  than  the  manner  in  which  it  was  expended. 
I  suppose  there  is  no  page  in  the  financial  history  of  the 
world  more  extraordinary  than  the  history  of  the  American 
pension  list.  At  the  close  of  the  war  pensions  were,  very 
properly,  given  to  soldiers  who  were  disabled  in  the  course  of 
it,  and  to  wives  of  soldiers  who  had  been  married  during  the 
war,  and  who  were  left  widows.     It  was  naturally  supposed 

1  Many  particulars  about  this  will  be  found  in  The  Forum,  August  1894. 
-  On  the  early  history  of  American  Protection,  see  Taussig's  Tariff  History 
of  the  United  States  (New  York,  1888). 


THE   PENSION   LIST  III 

that  in  America,  as  elsewhere,  the  war  pensions  would 
diminish  as  time  rolled  on  and  as  the  actors  in  the  struggle 
passed  away.  For  some  years  there  seemed  every  prospect 
that  this  would  have  been  the  case ;  and  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  would  have  been  so  if  the  Protectionist  interest 
had  not  found  it  necessary  to  maintain  and  expend  an 
enormous  surplus.  The  result  of  that  necessity  is,  that  in  a 
long  period  of  unbroken  peace  a  war  pension  list  has  been 
created  in  the  United  States  which  far  exceeds  in  magnitude 
any  other  that  is  known  in  history.  Fifty-seven  years  after 
the  war  of  1812  pensions  were  voted  to  its  surviving  soldiers 
and  to  their  widows  ;  thirty-nine  years  after  the  Mexican 
War  a  similar  measure  was  taken  in  favour  of  the  survivors 
of  that  war.  The  list  was  made  to  include  men  who  had 
been  disabled  long  after  the  war,  and  by  causes  totally  un- 
connected with  it,  and  widows  who  had  not  been  married, 
who  in  many  cases  had  not  been  born  when  the  last  shot 
was  fired.  Personation,  and  other  frauds  almost  grotesque 
in  their  cynicism  and  enormity,  became  notoriously  common, ' 
and  were  practised  with  the  most  absolute  impunity.  Multi- 
tudes of  young  women  formed  real  or  pretended  connections 
with  old  men  for  the  purpose  of  qualifying  for  a  pension.  It 
appears  from  official  documents  that,  in  1892,  there  were 
on  the  pension  list  165  persons  pensioned  as  survivors  of 
the  war  in  1812,  and  there  were  no  less  than  6,657  women 
who  were  pensioned  as  widows  of  the  soldiers  in  that  war. 
The  pension  list  trebled  between  1880  and  1884.  In  1893, 
it  was  stated  that  half  a  million  of  dollars  a  day  were  distri- 
buted on  account  of  a  war  which  had  terminated  nearly 
thirty  years  before.  In  1893  there  were  960,000  names  on 
the  pension  list,  and  165  millions  of  dollars,  or  thirty-three 
million  pounds,  was  appropriated  by  Congress  to  the  pension 
service. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  such  an  administration  of  public 
money  should  have  produced  a  great  financial  revulsion,  and 
that  the  period  of  enormous  surpluses  should  have  been 
followed  by  a  period  of  almost  equally  enormous  deficits.  No 
other  country,  indeed,  could  have  borne  such  an  expenditure, 


112  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

and  certainly  public  opinion  in  no  other  country  would  have 
tolerated  it.1 

It  would  be  perhaps  a  paradox  to  say  that  the  govern- 
ment of  a  country  which  is  so  great,  so  prosperous,  and  so 
pacific  as  the  United  States  has  not  been  a  success  ;  but, 
on  the  whole,  American  democracy  appears  to  me  to  carry 
with  it  at  least  as  much  of  warning  as  of  encouragement, 
especially  when  we  remember  the  singularly  favourable  cir- 
cumstances under  which  the  experiment  has  been  tried,  and 
the  impossibility  of  reproducing  those  conditions  at  home. 
There  is  one  point,  however,  on  which  all  the  best  observers 
in  America,  whether  they  admire  or  dislike  democracy,  seem 
agreed.  It  is,  that  it  is  absolutely  essential  to  its  safe  working 
that  there  should  be  a  written  constitution,  securing  property 
and  contract,  placing  serious  obstacles  in  the  way  of  organic 
changes,  restricting  the  power  of  majorities,  and  preventing 
outbursts  of  mere  temporary  discontent  and  mere  casual 
coalitions  from  overthrowing  the  main  pillars  of  the  State. 
In  America,  such  safeguards  are  largely  and  skilfully  provided, 
and  to  this  fact  America  mainly  owes  her  stability.  Un- 
fortunately, in  England  the  men  who  are  doing  most  to 
plunge  the  country  into  democracy  are  also  the  bitter  enemies 
of  all  these  safeguards,  by  which  alone  a  democratic  govern- 
ment can  be  permanently  maintained. 

1  A  great  deal  of  information  about  the  American  pensions  will  be  found  in 
The  Forum,  May  and  June,  1893,  and  in  the  North  American  Review,  April 
and  May,  1893 ;  see,  too,  the  Times,  January  29,  1894.  It  appears,  however, 
that  in  the  year  ending  June  30,  1894,  the  expenditure  on  the  pension  list  had 
sunk  to  27,960,892?.  (Times,  October  30,  1894). 


CONDITIONS   OF   CONSTITUTIONAL   CHANGE         1 13 


CHAPTEK   II 

The  power  given  in  England  to  a  simple  majority  of  a  single 
Parliament  to  change,  with  the  assent  of  the  Crown,  any 
portion  of  the  Constitution  is  not  a  common  thing  among 
free  nations.  Italy  and  Hungary,  it  is  true,  appear  in  this 
respect  to  stand  on  the  same  basis  as  England.  In  Spain 
there  is  a  written  Constitution  that  makes  no  special  mention 
of  provision  for  its  own  reform,  and  it  is  a  disputed  question 
whether  the  text  of  the  Constitution  can  be  modified  by  a 
simple  legislative  measure  of  an  ordinary  Cortes,  or  must  be 
submitted  to  a  Constituent  Cortes  specially  summoned  for 
this  purpose.  But  in  most  constitutions  there  is  a  distinct 
line  drawn  between  organic  constitutional  changes  and 
ordinary  legislation,  and  careful  provisions  establish  the 
manner  in  which  alone  the  former  can  be  carried  into  effect. 
In  a  large  number  of  constitutions,  of  which  those  of  the 
Austrian  Empire,  Belgium,  and  Bavaria  may  be  cited  as 
examples,  two-thirds  majorities  are  required  for  constitutional 
changes.  In  several  constitutions  it  is  necessary  that  such 
changes  should  be  sanctioned  by  two  successive  Parliaments. 
In  the  Netherlands  they  may  be  demanded  by  a  simple 
majority  in  one  Parliament,  but  must  be  sanctioned,  after  a 
dissolution,  by  two-thirds  majorities  in  its  successor.  In  the 
German  Empire  there  is  a  provision  that  fourteen  hostile 
votes  in  the  Federal  Council  constitute  on  these  subjects  an 
absolute  veto.  In  France,  constitutional  changes,  after  being 
voted  by  majorities  in  each  of  the  two  Houses,  must  be 
approved  by  a  majority  in  a  National  Assembly  consisting  of 
the  two  Houses  sitting  and  voting  together.  In  Switzerland 
they  may  be  proposed  by  either  Legislative  Chamber,  or  by 
vol.  1.  1 


114  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

50,000  vote-possessing  citizens,  but  they  cannot  become  law 
until  they  have  been  sanctioned  by  a  direct  popular  vote 
taken  in  the  form  of  a  Referendum.1 

Probably  none  of  these  provisions  are  as  really  efficacious 
as  those  which  are  contained  in  the  Constitutions  of  the 
United  States.  None  of  them  exist  in  the  British  Consti- 
tution, or  in  the  constitutions  of  the  great  colonial  demo- 
cracies that  are  growing  up  under  the  English  sceptre.  One 
remarkable  attempt  to  introduce  the  American  principle 
into  an  English  colony  was,  indeed,  made  by  the  great 
Australian  statesman,  Wentworth,  who,  in  1853,  introduced 
into  his  scheme  for  the  Constitution  of  New  South  Wales  a 
clause  providing  that  alterations  in  the  Constitution  could 
only  be  carried  by  two-thirds  majorities.  Unfortunately,  this 
clause  ultimately  miscarried  in  England,  and  in  this,  as  in 
the  other  Colonies,  the  power  of  an  upper  Chamber  and 
the  small  measure  of  restraint  involved  in  connection  with 
the  mother  country  alone  restrict  the  power  of  unbridled 
democracy.2 

Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  remarkable  in  our  constitu- 
tional history  than  the  small  stress  which  has  been  placed 
in  England  upon  mere  legislative  machinery,  upon  Constitu- 
tional laws  definitely  tracing  the  respective  limits  and  powers 
of  different  institutions.  The  system  of  checks  and  counter- 
checks which  it  has  been  the  object  of  written  constitutions 
to  maintain  has  been  roughly  maintained  in  England  by  the 
great  diversities  that  long  existed  in  the  constituencies  ;  by 
the  powerful  organisation  of  many  distinct,  and  sometimes 
conflicting,  interests  ;  by  the  great  influence  and  essentially 
representative  character  of  the  House  of  Lords.  It  has 
been  supported  by  a  network  of  usages,  traditions,  com- 
promises, and  understandings  which  have  no  real  or  sufficient 
basis  in  the  letter  of  the  law,  but  which  have  long  been 
universally  accepted.  Many  of  the  most  important  work- 
ing elements  in  the  Constitution — the  nature  of  the  Cabinet, 

1  Eeport  on  the  Majorities  required  in  Foreign  Legislatures  for  Consti- 
tutional Changes,  presented  to  the  House  of  Lords,  April  1893. 

2  Eusden's  History  of  Australia,  iii.  71-137. 


GOVERNMENT   BY   GENTLEMEN  115 

the   functions  of  the  Prime  Minister,  the  dignity  and  the ,/    /  -/£zrf   ^ 
attitude  of  the  Speaker,  the  initiative  of  the  Government  var,  ^_^  £^, 
matters  of  finance,  the  extent  to  which  the  House  of  Lords         *      ss  ^ 
may   use   its   veto — rest   essentially  on   the  foundation   of  *     ' 

custom.     It  is  absolutely  indispensable  to  the  working  of  /***      /^~ 
the  whole  machine  that  it  should  be  in  the  hands  of  honest      ^r^^^-f^- 
and  trustworthy  men,  of  men  determined  to  subordinate  orL<tf^f^***f^*^> 
great  occasions  their  personal  and  party  interests  to  the  inter-/-*  "n.^i^^J^-    J 
ests  of  the  State  ;  imbued  with  a  genuine  spirit  of  compromise,  «.^^  -y_    ' 
and  cordially  in  harmony  with  the  general  spirit  of  the  Con-  /       ^ 

stitution.    As  long  as  such  a  spirit  prevails  in  Parliament  and       ' 

governs  the  constituencies,  so  long  the  British  Constitution 
will  prove   a   success.     If   this    spirit    is   no    longer   found  A/«sfcf\^  «-* 
among  rulers  and  Parliaments  and  constituencies,  there  is  ^  . 

no  constitution  which  may  be  more  easily  dislocated,  and  / 

which   provides   less   means    of   checking   excesses    of  bad  'y  ™  £^*«*-». 
government.  ^v_^  X<r^^, 

'  Upon   the   power,'    wrote    Adam   Smith,    '  which    the  <w  £  / 

leading  men,  the  natural  aristocracy  of  every  country,  have    /  a     «  - 

of  preserving  or  defending  their  respective  importance  de-  \\^    \1K    7 
pends  the  stability  and  duration  of  every  system  of  free  vpc^^v  /W 
government.'  '     This  truth  has  been  always  strongly  felt  in    Jv      * 
England,  and  it  has  sometimes  been  pushed  to  very  extreme 
consequences.     Thus,  in  the  debates  upon  the  abolition  of   '*!  ~ '"*- *^*-y 
the  Corn  Laws,  some  of   the  most  considerable  defenders  Qh^ i+folwCj 
of   these   laws   refused   to    argue    the   question   on    merely     eMus>f. 
economical    grounds.     They   maintained  that   the   prepon- 
derance of  the  landed  interest  was  a  political  end  of  the  first 
magnitude.     They  argued  that-  it  secured  for  the  nation  a 
governing  class  whose  interests  were  indissolubly  connected  .     * 

with  the  permanent  prosperity   of    England;    whose    class  1  ifafUc  <*-y(<* 
standard    of   honour   placed    them    above    all    suspicion    of  I  fitzz. 


personal  corruption,  and  who,  by  living  among  their  people 
and  conducting  the  local  government  of  their  counties,  had 
acquired  in  a  high  measure  the  kinds  of  knowledge  and 
of  capacity  that  are  most  needed  in  political  life.  Long 
after  the    sceptre  of   power   had    passed    from   the   landed  typ-^**^1***^ 

1   Wealth  of  Nations,  Book  iv.  ch.  7.  ^A**-*-*     - 

1  -2 


I  I  6  N  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

gentry  to  the  middle  classes,  the  old  belief,  or  prejudice,  or 

_  ^^^      superstition  that  the  administration  of   government  ought 

/  u+4  f*-v-  ^Q  foe  chiefly  entrusted  to  gentlemen,  prevailed,  and,  in  spite 

<■■■»*&   u  A/uLur^   &y\  democratic  agitations,  it  is  certainly  very  far  from 

U^  <£c^u** ,     extinct. 

As  I  have  already  intimated,  this  belief,  like  many  others 
which  are  now  often  very  disdainfully  treated,  is  by  no 
means  incapable  of  defence.  The  position  of  a  public  man 
is  essentially  that  of  a  trustee,  and  interests  of  the  most 
enormous  importance  depend  largely  on  his  character.  To 
place  the  direction  of  affairs  in  the  hands  of  honest,  trust- 
worthy, and  competent  men,  though  it  is  not  the  sole,  is 
y  ,     .  certainly  the  most  important  end  of  politics,  and  an  immense 

<r*-^  *""•  proportion  of  the  calamities  that  politicians  have   brought 

^u^yvM.  •**_        upon  the  world  are  due  to  the  management  of  great  political 
/,       ~s   j      interests  having  passed  into  the  hands  of  mere  scheming 
*^  '     adventurers.     Honesty  and  dishonesty  belong  to  all  ranks 
and  to  all  grades  of  fortune,  but  in  dealing  with  masses  of 
men   we   must   judge   by   averages   and   probabilities,    and 
chiefly  by  the  strength  of  temptation  and  the  pressure  of 
interest.     '  How  easy  it  is,'  as   Becky   Sharp  said,  '  to  be 
virtuous  on  5,000Z.  a  year ! '     The  fact  that  a  trustee  who 
is    entrusted  with  vast  money  interests    is   himself   not    a 
needy,  struggling,  embarrassed  man,  but  the  possessor  of  a 
..competent  fortune,  is  generally  recognised  as  furnishing  some 
C.c.  UuAjtccj  guarantee,  though,  unfortunately,  by  no  means  a  sufficient 
/^/  Ji^v-c    Pne>  that  he  will  not  dishonestly  abuse  his  trust.     And  the 
.*    jj^/jV^ptrength   of   this   presumption   is   greatly  increased  if   the 

— L L — /character  of  his  fortune  is  not  fugitive  and  movable,  but 

permanent  and  stationary,  and,  if  he  holds  a  desirable  social 
position  which  depends  mainly  upon  opinion,  and  would  be 
inevitably  destroyed  by  an  act  of  private  dishonesty. 

This  is  the  mode  of  reasoning  on  which  men  invariably  act 
in  the  transactions  of  private  life,  and  it  is  equally  applicable 
to  politics.  The  code  of  honour  which  the  conventionalities 
of  society  attach  to  the  idea  of  a  gentleman  is,  indeed,  a 
somewhat  capricious  thing,  and  certainly  not  co-extensive 
with  the  moral  law.     It  may  be,  and  often  is,  compatible 


GOVERNMENT  BY  GENTLEMEN    ,      1 17 

with  acts  that  are,  in  truth,  profoundly  base  and  immoral. 
Without  forfeiting  this  position  in  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
men  have  plunged  their  country,  through  motives  of  mere 
personal  ambition,  into  the  horrors  of  war  ;  have  sought  for 
honours,  or  power,  or  party  triumphs,  by  shameful  acts  of 
political  apostasy  and  shameful  incitements  to  class  warfare  ; 
have  purchased  majorities  by  allying  themselves  with  dis- 
honest men  pursuing  dishonest  ends  ;  have  framed  consti- 
tutions to  enable  their  allies  to  carry  those  ends  into  effect. 
Men  of  old  families  and  ample  means  may  be  found  among 
the  active  agents  or  the  servile  tools  in  some  of  the  worst 
political  transactions  of  our  time.  All  this  is  profoundly 
true  ;  and  it  is  also  true  that  when  any  one  class,  be  it  high 
or  low,  obtains*  an  uncontrolled,  or  even  a  greatly  pre- 
ponderating, power,  its  policy  will  exhibit  a  class  bias.  At 
the  same  time,  it  is  no  less  true  that  on  special  subjects,  and 
within  a  restricted  sphere,  the  code  of  honour  of  a  gentleman 
is  the  most  powerful  of  all  restraining  influences,  more 
powerful  even  than  religion  with  ordinary  men.  Wherever 
it  pervades  the  public  service  men  will  soon  learn  to  ayf^C/. 
recognise  that  public  servants  cannot  be  bribed  or  corrupted  ; 
that  in  dealing  with  public  money  they  will  not  be  guilty  of 
malversation ;  that  their  word  may  be  trusted,  that  they 
are  not  likely  to  act  by  tortuous  or  intriguing  methods. 
The  credit  of  England  in  the  world  depends  largely  upon 
this  conviction,  and  that  credit  has  been  no  small  element  of 
her  prosperity.  Imputations  against  men  in  high  office, 
which  in  many  countries  are  constantly  made,  easily  be- 
lieved, and  sometimes  proved,  are  in  England  at  once  felt  to 
be  incredible.  One  thing,  at  least,  is  very  apparent  to  all 
serious  observers — if  the  government  of  England  passes 
altogether  out  of  the  hands  of  the  kind  of  men  who  have 
hitherto  directed  it,  it  will  speedily  fall  into  the  hands  of 
professional  politicians.  What  the  character  and  tendencies 
of  sjuch  politicians  are  likely  to  be,  the  example  of  the 
Ui/ited  States  abundantly  shows,  and  it  shows  also  how 
different  must  be  the  constitution  under  which  alone  they 
can  be  safely  restrained. 


A^w"^^rot"*  ^^^^EMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

I  do  not  think  there  is  any  single  fact  which  is  more 
evident  to  impartial  observers  than  the  declining  efficiency 
and  the  lowered  character  of  parliamentary  government.  The 
evil  is  certainly  not  restricted  to  England.  All  over  Europe, 
and,  it  may  be  added,  in  a  great  measure  in  the  United  States, 
complaints  of  the  same  kind  ma}r  be  heard.  A  growing  dis- 
trust and  contempt  for  representative  bodies  has  been  one  of 
the  most  characteristic  features  of  the  closing  years  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  In  some  countries,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  the  parliamentary  system  means  constantly  shifting 
government,  ruined  finances,  frequent  military  revolts,  the 
%/  v  ^systematic  management  of   constituencies.     In  most  coun- 

u*    t**y*         faies  it  has   proved   singularly  sterile   in   high   talent.      It 
H4*^&^£~iv      seems  to  have  fallen  more  and  more  under  the  control  of 
urm4L^-Y  i~£-    men  of  an  inferior  stamp  :  of  skilful  talkers  or  intriguers  ; 
^^or  sectional   interests  or  small  groups ;   and  its  hold  upon 
the  affection  and  respect  of  nations  has  visibly  diminished. 
Laveleye  has  truly  noted  the  sigh  of  relief  that  is  felt  in 
t-^*<^ti/^**«^many  lands  when  a  Parliament  is  prorogued,  and  the  growing 
"XZZeJ  feeling  that  America  has  acted  wisely  in  restricting  many  of 

her  State  legislatures   to   biennial   sessions.     He  observes, 
with  some  cynicism,  that  Italy  has  one  special  advantage  in 
her   capital — the   Eoman   malaria   effectually   abridges   the 
sessions  of  her  Parliament. 
-  This  great  decline  in  the  weight  of  representative  bodies, 

U^t4A+{i+*.i^*-*~wYiich  has  made  '  parliamentarism  '  almost  a  byword  in  many 
Ic^l^.  fcC-ujfc  nations,  has  advanced  contemporaneously  with  the  growth  of 
4 c^-^*%^icteZ  democracy.  In  a  large  degree,  at  least,  it  may  be  clearly 
D  y  /  >fp-  '  traced  to  the  general  establishment  of  universal  suffrage  as 
///  /f  r^l  ^ne  Das^s  °^  representation.  It  is  being  generally  discovered 
^u/^7t^^  r~  that  the  system  which  places  the  supreme  power  in  the  hands 
Stw>*~/'  *•"  of  mere  majorities,  consisting  necessarily  of  the  poorest  and 
Lh\CS**+4^U  most  ignorant,  whatever  else  it  may  do,  does  not  produce 
j,  /    </£—  Parliaments  of  surpassing  excellence.     One  thing,  however, 

'I  Of  ^s-rf~~~'mus^  ^e  observed.  Ignorance  in  the  elective  body  does  not 
u***^  £  '  naturally  produce  ignorance  in  the  representative  body.  It 
tyjijtw?  f»  is  much  more  likely  to  produce  dishonesty.  Intriguers  and 
dL^utAAi  c<rz^£demagogues,  playing  successfully  on  the  passions  and  the 


DECADENCE   OF   THE   HOUSE  ,  OF   COMMONS         I  1 9 

credulity  of  the  ignorant  and  of  the  poor,  form  one  of  the 
great  characteristic  evils  and  dangers  of  our  time. 

In  England,  no  one  can  be  insensible  to  the  change  in  the 
tone  of  the  House  of  Commons  within  the  memory  of  living 
men.  The  old  understandings  and  traditions,  on  which  its 
deliberations  have  been  for  many  generations  successfully 
conducted,  have  largely  disappeared,  and  new  and  stringent 
regulations  have  been  found  necessary.  Scenes  of  coarse 
and  brutal  insult,  of  deliberate  obstruction,  of  unrestrained 
violence,  culminating  on  one  occasion  in  actual  blows,  have 
been  displayed  within  its  walls  to  which  there  have  been 
few  parallels  in  other  legislatures.  Perhaps  the  nearest  are 
to  be  found  in  the  American  Congress  in  the  years  of  fiercely 
excited  passions  that  preceded  the  Civil  War.  It  is  true  that 
these  scenes  may  be  chiefly  traced  to  one  party,  which  made 
it  its  avowed  object  to  degrade,  dislocate,  and  paralyse  the 
parliamentary  machine  till  their  objects  were  attained  ;  but 
the  contagion  of  their  example  and  the  connivance,  through 
party  motives,  of  other  members  have  been  very  evident. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  power  of  arbitrarily  closing  de- 
bates, which  has  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  majorities,  has 
been  grossly  abused.  It  has  been  made  use  of  not  merely 
to  abridge,  but  to  prevent,  discussion  on  matters  of  momen- 
tous importance.  Many  clauses  of  a  Home  Rule  Bill  which 
went  to  the  very  root  of  the  British  Constitution;  which, 
in  the  opinion  of  the  great  majority  of  competent  British 
statesmen,  would  have  proved  the  inevitable  prelude  to  the 
dismemberment  and  downfall  of  the  Empire  ;  which  was 
supported  by  a  party  depending  on  the  votes  of  men  who 
were  ostentatiously  indifferent  to  the  well-being  of  the  Em- 
pire, and  was  strenuously  opposed  by  a  great  majority  of  the 
representatives  of  England,  and  by  a  considerable  majority 
of  the  representatives  of  Great  Britain,  were  forced  through 
the  House  of  Commons  by  the  application  of  the  Closure, 
and  without  any  possibility  of  the  smallest  discussion. 
Nothing  but  the  veto  of  the  House  of  Lords  prevented  a 
measure  of  the  first  importance,  carried  by  such  means  and 
by  a  bare  majority,  from  becoming  law. 


120  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

And  while  this  change  has  been  passing  over  the  spirit 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  its  powers  and  its  pretensions 
are  constantly  extending.  The  enormous  extension  of  the 
practice  of  questioning  ministers  has  immensely  increased 
the  intervention  of  the  House  in  the  most  delicate  functions 
of  the  Executive.  It  insists  on  measures  and  negotiations, 
in  every  stage  of  their  inception,  being  brought  before  it, 
and  resolutions  emanating  from  independent  sections  have 
more  than  once  exercised  a  most  prejudicial  influence,  if 
not  on  foreign  affairs,  at  least  on  the  government  of  India. 
At  the  same  time,  the  claim  is  more  and  more  loudly  put 
forward  that  it  should  be  treated  as  if  it  were  the  sole 
power  in  the  State.  The  veto  of  the  sovereign  has  long 
since  fallen  into  abeyance.  Her  constitutional  right  of 
dissolving  Parliament  if  she  believes  that  a  minister  or  a 
majority  do  not  truly  represent  the  feelings  of  the  nation, 
and  are  acting  contrary  to  its  interests,  might  sometimes 
be  of  the  utmost  value,  but  it  is  never  likely  to  be  put  in 
force.  Her  slight  power,  in  the  rare  cases  of  nearly  balanced 
claims,  of  selecting  the  minister  to  whom  she  will  entrust 
the  government,  and  the  slight  influence  she  still  retains 
over  the  disposition  of  patronage,  are  regarded  with  extreme 
jealousy ;  while  every  interference  of  the  House  of  Lords 
with  the  proposed  legislation  of  the  Commons  has  been, 
during  a  considerable  part  of  the  last  few  years,  made  the 
signal  of  insolent  abuse.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive 
a  greater  absurdity  than  a  second  Chamber  which  has  no 
power  of  rejecting,  altering,  or  revising  ;  and  this  is  practi- 
cally the  position  to  which  a  large  number  of  members  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  of  their  supporters  outside  the 
House,  would  reduce  the  House  of  Lords. 

We  can  hardly  have  a  more  grotesque  exhibition  of 
this  spirit  than  was  displayed  during  the  discussion  of  the 
Parish  Council  Bill  in  1894.  The  Bill  came  for  the  first 
time  before  Parliament.  It  was  one  on  which  the  House 
of  Lords,  consisting  of  the  great  proprietors  of  the  soil, 
could  speak  with  pre-eminent  knowledge  and  authority, 
while   a   vast   proportion    of   the    majority   in   the    House 


PARLIAMENTARY   SPEAKING  121 

of  Commons  had  not  the  remotest  connection  with  land, 
and  were  notoriously  acting  under  mere  motives  of  party 
interest.  The  Bill  of  the  Commons,  in  its  principle  and 
main  outlines,  was  accepted  by  the  Lords,  and  they  went 
no  further  than  to  alter  it  in  a  few  of  its  details.  But 
because  they  exercised  in  this  manner  their  clearest  and 
most  indisputable  constitutional  right,  on  a  subject  with 
which  they  were  peculiarly  competent  to  deal,  they  were 
denounced  as  if  they  had  committed  an  outrage  on  the 
nation.  The  last  ministerial  speech  with  which  Mr.  Glad- 
stone closed  his  long  political  career l  was  an  abortive 
attempt  to  kindle  a  popular  agitation  against  them  on  that 
ground. 

The  enormous  and  portentous  development  of  parliamen- 
tary speaking,  which  has  so  greatly  impeded  public  business, 
is  due  to  many  causes.  In  the  first  place,  the  House  of 
Commons  of  670  members  is  far  too  large  for  the  purposes 
for  which  it  is  intended.  It  is  larger  than  any  other  legis-  /4/W  7^ 
lative  body  in  the  world,  and  the  nineteenth  century  has  ,        \/ 

added    greatly   both  to  its  numbers  and  its  speakers.      At 

the  beginning  of  the  century  it  received  an  important  addi-  7  / 

tion  in  the   Irish  members    who  were   brought  in  by  the  '        w*^*w, 
Union.     The    abolition    of    the    small    boroughs   and   the  ™.P.  j  cat 
increasing  power  of  the  constituencies  over  their  members  /£^  c*-tvl<__ 
greatly   increased  the  average  attendance,    by   making  the  //y  ^       • 

members  much  more  directly  dependent  upon  their  electors.     •. -g 

The  Keform  Bills  of  1867  and  1885  gave  an  opportunity  for^^T^^ 

some  reduction.     But,  as  is  usually  the  case,  the  interests  of  &w**^n>t4tj 

party  and  popularity  prevailed,  and  the  number  of  members 

was  not  diminished,  but  even  slightly  increased.    The  scenes 

of  violence,  anarchy,  and  deliberate  obstruction  that   have 

been  so  frequent  during  late  years  have  done  much  to  destroy 

that  respect  for  the  House,  that  timidity  in  appearing  before 

a  fastidious  audience,  which  once  weighed  heavily  on  nearly 

all  new  members,  and  imposed    a    useful  restraint  on  idle 

speaking.     At    the    same    time,    the    development   of    the 

provincial  papers  has  made  it  an  easy  and  desirable  thing 

1  March  1,  181)4. 


122  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

for  each  member  to  be  reported  at  full  in  his  own  con- 
stituency as  a  prominent    speaker ;    and  the  vast  increase 
of  stump  oratory  by  members  of  Parliament  in  every  town 
and  almost  every  village  has  given  nearly   all  members  a 
fatal  facility.     Something,  also,  has  been  due  to  the  fact  that  jfto-rHA>c 
the  House  of  Commons  was  led  or  profoundly   influenced         ,      , 
during  many  years  by  a  very  great  orator,  who  possessed      ^A*^ 
every  form  of  eloquence  except  conciseness,  and  who  could  £  i^jijUj 
rarely  answer  a  question  without  making  a  speech.  '  Lf  f     w 

This  diffuseness  and  incontinence  of  speech  has  not  been  l '  ^ ^ 
the  characteristic  of  the  deliberative  assemblies  that  have  ft^*4*— 
left  the  greatest  mark  on  the  history  of  the  world.  Jeffer- 
son observes  in  his  'Memoirs,'  'I  served  with  "Washington  in 
the  Legislature  of  Virginia,  before  the  Eevolution,  and  during 
it,  with  Dr.  Franklin,  in  Congress.  I  never  heard  either  of 
them  speak  ten  minutes  at  a  time,  nor  to  any  but  the  main 
point  which  was  to  decide  the  question.'  '  In  our  own  House 
of  Commons,  old  members  still  remember  the  terse,  direct 
character  of  the  speeches  of  Kussell,  Palmerston,  and 
Disraeli,  and  many  men  wlio  have  exercised  great  weight 
and  influence  in  English  politics  have  been  singularly 
deficient  in  the  power  of  speech.  The  names  of  Lord 
Althorp,  Sir  Charles  Wood,  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in 
the  past  generation,  and  of  W.  H.  Smith  in  our  own,  will  at 
once  occur  to  the  reader.  The  dreary  torrent  of  idle, 
diffusive,  insincere  talk  that  now  drags  its  slow  lengths 
through  so  many  months  at  Westminster  certainly  does  not 
contribute  to  raise  the  character  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
It  is  a  significant  sign  that  parliamentary  reporting  has  of 
late  years  greatly  declined,  and  that  newspapers  which  would 
once  have  competed  for  the  fullest  reports  of  parliamentary- 
speeches  now  content  themselves  with  abridgments,  or 
summaries,  or  even  with  sketches  of  the  speakers. 

On  the  whole,  however,  it  may  be  questioned  whether,  in 
the  existing  state  of  the  British  Constitution,  this  diffuseness 
is  an  evil.  There  is  some  weight  in  the  contention  of 
Bagehot,  that  one  great  advantage  of  government  by  debate 

1  Life  of  Jefferson,  i.  179. 


INFLUENCE   OF   THE   CAUCUS  1 23 

is,  that  much  talking  prevents  much  action,  and  if  it  does 
little  to  enlighten  the  subject,  it  at  least  greatly  checks  the 
progress  of  hasty  and  revolutionary  legislation.  There  are 
worse  things  than  a  wasted  session,  and,  in  times  when 
the  old  restraints  and  balances  of  the  Constitution  have 
almost  perished,  the  restraint  of  loquacity  is  not  to  be 
despised. 

It  makes  the  House  of  Commons,  however,  a  perfectly 
inefficient  instrument  for  some  of  the  purposes  it  is  expected 
to  fulfil.  There  are  large  questions,  such  as  the  reform  and 
codification  of  great  branches  of  the  law,,  which  bristle  with 
points  of  difficulty  and  difference,  but  which  at  the  same 
time  do  not  fall  within  the  lines  of  party  or  affect  the 
balance  of  power.  To  carry  highly  complex  measures  of 
this  kind  through  a  body  like  the  present  House  of  Commons 
is  utterly  impossible,  and  these  much-needed  reforms  are 
never  likely  to  be  accomplished  till  the  Constitution  is  so  far 
changed  as  to  give  much  larger  powers  to  Committees., 

The  independence  of  Parliament  has  at  the  same  time 
almost  gone.  Since  the  country  has  committed  itself  to 
democracy  the  caucus  system — which  is  but  another  name 
for  the  American  machine,  and  which,  like  the  American 
machine,  is  mainly  managed  by  a  small  number  of  active 
politicians — has  grown  with  portentous  rapidity.  It  nomi- 
nates the  candidates  for  elections.  It  dictates  their  policy 
in  all  its  details.  It  applies  a  constant  pressure  by  instruc- 
tions, remonstrances,  and  deputations  at  every  stage  of 
their  task.  It  reduces  the  ordinary  member  of  Parlia- 
ment to  the  position  of  a  mere  delegate  or  puppet,  though  at 
the  same  time  it  tends,  Tike  many  other  democratic  institu- 
tions, to  aggrandise  enormously  the  power  of  any  single 
individual  who  is  sufficiently  powerful  and  conspicuous  to 
enlist  the  favour  of  the  nation  and  dominate  and  direct  the_ 
caucus  machinery.  What  is  called  '  the  one-man  power  ' 
is  a  very  natural  product  of  democracy.  Mr.  Bright  once 
said  that  the  greatest  danger  of  our  present  system  of 
government  is  surprise — the  power  which  a  bold  and 
brilliant  leader  possesses  of  committing  his  party  by  his  own 


124  '      DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERT!' 

will  to  a  new  policy  which  had  never  been  maturely 
considered  or  accepted.  It  is  notorious  that  the  most 
momentous  new  departure  made  by  the  Liberal  party  in  our 
day — the  adoption  of  the  policy  of  Home  Rule — was  due  to 
a  single  man,  who  acted  without  consultation  with  his 
colleagues. 

At  the  same  time,  a  great  change  has  taken  place  in  the 
relations- of  Government  to  the  House  of  Commons.  In 
order  to  guard  against  the  dangers  to  be  feared  from  an 
unrestrained  House,  opposite  methods  have  been  employed 
in  the  United  States  and  in  England.  In  the  former,  the 
ministers  form  no  part  of  the  representative  Chamber,  and 
the  vote  of  that  Chamber  is  incompetent  to  overthrow  them. 
In  England,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Ministry  is  the  creature 
of  the  House  of  Commons  ;  but  the  organised  force  of  a 
united  Cabinet  is  the  most  powerful  restraint  upon  its 
proceedings.  Most  of  the  old  power  of  the  sovereign,  as  it 
has  been  truly  said,  has  now  passed  to  the  Cabinet,  and  a 
solid  body  of  the  leaders  of  the  majority,  whose  guidance  is 
indispensable  to  the  ascendency  of  their  party,  is  able  to 
exercise  a  strong  controlling  "influence  on  all  parliamentary 
proceedings.  But  the  situation  is  much  modified  when 
Parliaments  break  up  into  small  groups.  All  over -the  world 
this  has  been  one  of  the  most  marked  and  significant 
tendencies  of  democratic  Parliaments,  and  it  will  probably 
eventually  lead  to  a  profound  change  in  the  system  of 
parliamentary  government.  In  France,  in  Germany,  and  in 
Italy,  as  well  as  in  many  minor  States,  this  disintegration 
may  be  shown  to  its  full  extent ;  in  Great  Britain  it  has 
made  considerable  progress.  Not  many  years  ago  Belgium 
was  said  to  be  the  only  European  country  where  the 
Legislature  was  still  divided  into  only  two  distinct  parties.1 
One  of  the  first  results  of  her  lowered  suffrage  has  been 
the  introduction  into  her  Parliament  of  a  new  and  powerful 
Socialist  group. 

The  results  of  this  disintegration  are  very  manifest. 
Government  in  its  relation  to  the  House  of  Commons  loses 

1  Laveleye,  lie  Gotivernement  dans  la  Democratic,  ii.  101. 


PARLIAMENTARY   GROUPS  I  25 

its  old  commanding  and  controlling  authority.  The  Cabinet 
had  already  lost^/uuch  of  its  initiating  power  by  the  growth 
of  the  caucus  system,  which  dictates  the  policy  of  the  party. 
In  a  Parliament  divided  into  several  groups  its  strength  is 
still  further  diminished.  A  coalition  may  at  any  time  over- 
throw it.  It  depends  upon  the  concurrence  of  many  distinct 
groups,  governed  by  different  motives,  aiming  at  different 
objects,  representing  different  shades  of  political  feeling. 
It  is  obliged  to  conciliate  by  separate  bribes  these  different 
sections,  or  to  discover  some  cry  that  may  rally  them,  some 
active  and  aggressive  policy  that  may  secure  their  support, 
and  to  which  they  will  subordinate  their  special  objects. 

This  evil  is  greatly  accentuated  by  the  modern  dis- 
covery that  the  disintegration  of  parties  is  exceedingly 
conducive  to  the  triumph  of  minor  sectional  objects.  A 
group  of  men  representing  opinions  and  aiming  at  objects 
which  are  only  those  of  a  small  minority  of  the  nation,  may 
obtain  a  decisive  influence  if  it  keeps  apart  from  the  great 
party  organisations,  subordinates  all  other  considerations  to 
its  own  objects,  and  at  times  when  parties  are  evenly  balanced, 
and  when  a  few  votes  can  save  or  destroy  a  Government, 
makes  the  attainment  of  those  objects  the  price  of  its 
adhesion.  Where  there  are  only  two  strongly  organised 
parties  these  minor  questions  fall  into  their  natural  place  ; 
but  in  a  Parliament  broken  into  many  fractions,  each  fraction 
can  exercise  a  power  utterly  disproportionate  to  its  numbers 
and  to  its  real  hold  upon  the  country.  The  action  of  the 
independent  Irish  Home  Rule  party  in  the  parliamentary 
system  has  been  the  most  remarkable  instance  of  this  truth, 
and  other  groups  are  evidently  constituting  themselves  in 
the  same  way,  and  are  likely  to  pursue  their  objects  by  the 
same  parliamentary  methods. 

The  consequences  of'  all  this  are  very  far-reaching.  If 
my  forecast  is  not  erroneous,  it  must  end  in  the  destruction 
of  that  ascendency  of  the  House  of  Commons  which  was 
built  up  in  the  days  of  middle-class  supremacy  and  of  strong 
party  organisation.  It  produces  also  a  weakness  and  an 
instability   in    the    executive    power    which    is   often    very 


126  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

injurious  to  the  interests  of  the  nation.  On  the  whole, 
however,  this  weakness  seems  likely  to  be  greater  under 
Liberal  than  under  Conservative  Governments,  as  the  Con- 
servative party  is  far  more  homogeneous  than  its  rival.  The 
great  revolt  of  the  nation  against  Radical  policy  in  1895  has 
created  one  of  the  most  powerful  ministries  of  the  century, 
resting  upon  an  enormous  and  substantially  homogeneous 
majority  in  both  Houses.  But,  with  the  fluctuations  to 
which  parliamentary  government  is  now  so  liable,  no  one 
can  suppose  that  such  a  majority  can  be  permanent.  All 
the  signs  of  the  times  point  to  the  probability  in  England,  as 
elsewhere,  of  many  ministries  resting  on  precarious  majorities 
formed  out  of  independent  or  heterogeneous  groups.  There 
are  few  conditions  less  favourable  to  the  healthy  working  of 
parliamentary  institutions,  or  in  which  the  danger  of  an  un- 
controlled House  of  Commons  is  more  evident. 

One  consequence  of  this  disintegration  of  Parliament  is  a 
greatly  increased  probability  that  policies  which  the  nation 
does  not  really  wish  for  may  be  carried  into  effect.  The 
process  which  the  Americans  call '  log-rolling  '  becomes  very 
easy.  One  minority  will  agree  to  support  the  objects  of 
another  minority  on  condition  of  receiving  in  return  a 
similar  assistance,  and  a  number  of  small  minorities  aiming 
at  different  objects,  no  one  of  which  is  really  desired  by  the 
majority  of  the  nation,  may  attain  their  several  ends  by 
forming  themselves  into  a  political  syndicate  and  mutually 
co-operating.  The  kind  of  politics  which  was  notoriously 
adopted  on  the  question  of  Home  Rule  illustrates  both  the 
nature  and  the  danger  of  this  system.  The  Home  Rule  Bill 
had  been  decisively  condemned  by  the  constituencies,  and 
the  Government  which  proposed  it  saw  clearly  that  on  that 
issue  alone  it  was  not  likely  to  obtain  a  favourable  verdict. 
It  was  argued,  however,  that  if  a  Home  Rule  Government 
could  win  the  support  of  the  electors  who  desired  local  option, 
and  the  disestablishment  of  the  Welsh  and  Scotch  Churches, 
and  the  abolition  of  the  hereditary  element  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  and  legislation  shortening  the  hours  of  labour,  and 
other   measures   of   a  democratic  character,  these  different 


APPETITE   FOR    ORGANIC   CHANGE  1 27 

parties  would  constitute  a  majority  that  would  enable  the 
ministers  to  carry  Home  Rule  in  spite  of  the  wishes  of  the 
nation. 

Probably  still  more  dangerous  is  the  necessity,  which  the 
existing  state  of  parliamentary  representation  establishes,  of 
seeking  for  a  popular  cry,  which  generally  means  some 
organic  and  destructive  change  in  the  Constitution.  An 
appetite  for  organic  change  is  one  of  the  worst  diseases  that 
can  affect  a  nation.  All  real  progress,  all  sound  national 
development,  must  grow  out  of  a  stable,  persistent  national 
character,  deeply  influenced  by  custom  and  precedent  and  old 
traditional  reverence,  habitually  aiming  at  the  removal  of 
practical  evils  and  the  attainment  of  practical  advantages, 
rather  than  speculative  change.  Institutions,  like  trees,  can 
never  attain  their  maturity  or  produce  their  proper  fruits  if 
their  roots  are  perpetually  tampered  with.  In  no  single  point 
is  the  American  Constitution  more  incontestably  superior  to 
our  own  than  in  the  provisions  by  which  it  has  so  effectually 
barred  the  path  of  organic  change  that  the  appetite  for  such 
change  has  almost  passed  away.  No  one  who  observes 
English  politics  with  care  can  fail  to  see  how  frequently,  when 
a  statesman  is  out  of  office  and  his  party  divided,  his  first 
step  is  to  mark  out  some  ancient  institution  for  attack  in 
order  to  rally  his  followers.  Personal  vanity  here  concurs 
powerfully  with  party  interests,  for  men  who  are  utterly 
destitute  of  real  constructive  ability  are  capable  of  attacking 
an  existing  institution  ;  and  there  is  no  other  form  of  politics 
in  which  a  noisy  reputation  can  be  so  easily  acquired.  In- 
stead of  wisely  using  the  machinery  of  government  for  the 
benefit  of  the  whole  nation,  English  politicians  have  of  late 
years  been  perpetually  tampering  with  it,  and  a  spirit  of 
feverish  unrest  has  passed  into  English  politics  which,  if  it 
is  not  checked,  bodes  ill  for  the  permanence  of  parliamentary 
government. 

Both  parties  have  in  this  respect  much  to  answer  for.  A 
weak  Conservative  Government  is  often  tempted  to  outbid 
its  rival  and  win  the  support  of  some  discontented  fragment 
of  the  Opposition ;  and  there  is  no  Radicalism  so  dangerous 


128  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

as  this,  for  it  finds  no  external  body  to  restrain  it,  and  the 
Opposition  is  bound  by  its  position  to  aggravate  it.  Few  pages 
in  our  modern  political  history  are  more  discreditable  than 
the  story  of  the  'Conservative'  Reform  Bill  of  1867.  A  weak 
Liberal  Government,  on  the  other  hand,  depends  for  its  sup- 
port on  the  concurrence  of  many  semi-detached  groups,  among 
which  extreme  politicians  often  exercise  a  disproportionate 
power.  The  Home  Rule  schism,  by  depriving  the  party  of 
the  greater  part  of  its  restraining  and  moderating  element, 
has  much  increased  the  danger. 

There  are  few  things,  also,  more  disheartening  in  English 
politics  than  what  maybe  called  the  unintelligent  conservatism 
of  English  Radicalism.  It  moves  persistently  in  a  few  old, 
well-worn  grooves.  The  withdrawal  of  the  control  of  affairs 
from  the  hands  of  the  minority  who,  in  the  competitions  of 
life,  have  risen  to  a  higher  plane  of  fortune  and  instruction  ; 
the  continual  degradation  of  the  suffrage  to  lower  and  lower 
strata  of  intelligence  ;  attacks  upon  institution  after  institu- 
tion ;  a  systematic  hostility  to  the  owners  of  landed  property, 
and  a  disposition  to  grant  much  the  same  representative 
institutions  to  all  portions  of  the  Empire,  quite  irrespectively 
of  their  circumstances  and  characters,  are  the  directions  in 
which  the  ordinary  Radical  naturally  moves.  In  hardly  any 
quarter  do  we  find  less  constructive  ability,  less  power  of 
arriving  even  at  a  perception  of  the  new  evils  that  have  arisen 
or  of  the  new  remedies  that  are  required.  To  destroy  some 
institution,  or  to  injure  some  class,  is  very  commonly  his  first 
and  last  idea  in  constitutional  policy. 

Another  tendency  which  is  very  manifestly  strengthening 
in  English  politics  is  that  of  attempting  to  win  votes  by  class 
bribery.  With  very  large  democratic  constituencies,  in 
which  a  great  proportion  of  the  voters  are  quite  indifferent  to 
the  main  questions  of  party  politics,  some  form  of  corruption 
is  certain  to  arise.  The  kinds  of  bribery,  it  is  true,  which 
prevailed  in  England  under  an  unreformed  Parliament  have 
either  disappeared  or  greatly  diminished.  The  number  of 
the  electors,  the  secrecy  of  the  vote,  and  the  stringency  of 
recent  legislation  against  corruption,  have  had  in  this  respect 


PRINCIPLES   OF   TAXATION  129 

a  salutary  effect.  The  gigantic  corruption  which  exists  in 
America  under  the  name  of  the  '  spoils  system  '  has  not 
taken  root  in  England,  though  some  recent  attempts  to 
tamper,  in  the  interests  of  party,  with  the  old  method  of 
appointing  magistrates  in  the  counties,  and  some  claims  that 
have  been  put  forward  by  members  of  parliament  to  dictate 
the  patronage  in  their  constituencies,  show  that  there  are 
politicians  who  would  gladly  introduce  this  poison-germ  into 
English  life.  Happily,  however,  the  system  of  competitive 
examination  places  most  branches  of  the  Civil  Service  out  of 
the  reach  of  politicians.  But  a  form  of  bribery  which  is  far 
cheaper  to  the  candidate,  yet  far  more  costly  to  the  nation, 
than  that  to  which  our  grandfathers  were  accustomed,  has 
rapidly  growrf.  As  Sir  Henry  Maine  has  truly  said,  the 
bribery  which  is  most  to  be  feared  in  a  democracy  is  that  of 
'  legislating  away  the  property  of  one  class  and  transferring 
it  to  another.' ]  Partial,  inequitable  taxation,  introduced  for 
the  purpose  of  obtaining  votes,  is  an  evil  which  in  democratic 
societies  is  but  too  likely  to  increase. 

It  has  been  rendered  easier  by  the  great  fiscal  revolution 
which  took  place  in  England  after  the  abolition  of  the  Corn 
Laws.  A  number  of  widely  diffused  indirect  taxes,  which 
were  paid  in  the  form  of  enhanced  prices,  were  abolished  ; 
taxation  has  been  more  concentrated,  and  it  has  become  very 
easy  to  vary  both  its  amount  and  its  incidence.  It  is  remark- 
able that,  at  a  time  when  this  process  was  rapidly  advancing, 
a  note  of  warning  and  of  protest  was  sounded  by  one  of  the 
wisest  leaders  of  the  Liberals.  Sir  C.  Lewis,  in  the  memorable 
Budget  speech  which  he  made  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
in  1857,  quoted  the  following  striking  passage  from  Arthur 
Young :  '  The  mere  circumstance  of  taxes  being  very  nu- 
merous in  order  to  raise  a  given  sum  is  a  considerable  step 
towards  equality  in  the  burden  falling  on  the  people.  If  I 
were  to  define  a  good  system  of  taxation,  it  should  be  that  of 
bearing  lightly  on  an  infinite  number  of  points,  heavily  on 
none.  In  other  words,  that  simplicity  in  taxation  is  the 
greatest  additional  weight  that  can  be  given  to  taxes,  and 
1  Popular  Government,  p.  10(>. 

VOL.  I.  K 


130  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

ought  in  every  country  to  be  most  sedulously  avoided.' 
'  That  opinion,'  said  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis,  '  though  contrary 
to  much  that  we  hear  at  the  present  day,  seems  to  me  to  be 
full  of  wisdom,  and  to  be  a  most  useful  practical  guide  in  the 
arrangement  of  a  system  of  taxation.' l 

These  remarks  of  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis  were  much  censured 
at  the  time  ;  but  I  believe  that  many  of  our  best  contemporary 
thinkers  will  agree  with  me  that  they  contain  much  truth, 
and  that  the  concentration  of  taxation  into  a  very  few  forms 
has  been  carried  in  England  to  an  exaggerated  extent.  In 
times  when  prosperity  is  rapidly  advancing  and  when  taxation 
is  easily  borne  the  evil  may  be  little  felt ;  but  in  times  of 
receding  prosperity  it  is  of  no  small  advantage  that  the  burden 
of  taxation  should  be  diffused  in  many  forms  and  over  a  wide 
area.  As  it  is  much  easier  in  times  of  adversity  to  raise  than 
to  impose  a  duty,  it  is  often  wiser  in  times  of  prosperity  to 
lower  than  to  abolish  it.  Low  duties  on  articles  of  general 
consumption,  showing  themselves  in  a  slightly  enhanced  price, 
pass  almost  unnoticed,  and  usually  cause  far  less  friction  and 
discomfort  than  direct  taxes.  They  are  very  equitable,  for 
they  are  strictly  proportioned  to  consumption  or  enjoyment ; 
and  this  system  of  taxation  makes  it  easy  for  the  taxpayer, 
according  to  his  improving  or  declining  means,  to  vary  his 
taxation  by  varying  his  consumption,  while  it  secures  that 
some  portion  of  the  national  burden  shall  be  diffused  over  a 
wide  area.  An  excellent  writer  on  this  subject  has  truly  said  : 
•  If  only  our  fiscal  burdens  are  equitably  apportioned,  and  so 
contrived  as  neither  to  fetter  industry  nor  to  repress  enter- 
prise, that  mode  of  levying  them  must  be  the  best  which  is 
the  least  unpleasant  and  the  least  felt  ;  '  and  the  same  writer 
gives  good  ground  for  believing  that  there  is  much  exaggera- 
tion, and  even  positive  error,  in  the  popular  notion  that  the 
cost  of  collecting  indirect  taxes  is  greater  than  that  of  collect- 

1  Northcote's  Twenty  Years  of  Financial  Policy,  pp.  309-10.  There  is  a 
remarkable  speech  of  Thiers  in  favour  of  a  great  variety  of  moderate  taxes, 
delivered  January  19, 1831.  He  contended  that  this  is  the  only  system  of  really 
equitable  taxation  that  has  been  yet  devised,  as  those  who  escaped  one  tax  fall 
under  another,  and  taxation  adjusts  itself  almost  insensibly  to  expenditure. 


EXAGGERATIONS  OF  FREE  TRADE       131 

ing  direct  ones.1  Two  other  considerations  must  also  be 
remembered.  One  is,  that  the  remission  of  a  direct  tax  is 
usually  felt  to  its  full  extent  by  the  whole  body  of  taxpayers 
affected,  while  a  wholly  disproportionate  amount  of  the 
benefit  arising  from  the  remission  of  a  duty  is  in  most  cases 
intercepted  by  middlemen.  The  other  is,  that  the  remission 
of  a  direct  tax  is  usually  an  unmixed  benefit,  while  the 
remission  of  an  indirect  tax,  by  stimulating  competition,  often 
produces  acute  suffering  to  particular  classes.  Thus,  to  give 
a  single  example,  the  kelp  manufacture,  on  which  the  poorest 
inhabitants  of  the  most  barren  coast-lands  in  Scotland  and 
Ireland  are  largely  supported,  was  for  many  years  wholly 
dependent  for  its  existence  on  a  tax  which  was  imposed  on 
Spanish  barilla. 

I  do  not  intend  by  these  remarks  to  dispute  the  immense 
advantages  which  England  has  derived  from  her  Free-trade 
legislation.  This  legislation  has  vastly  stimulated  both 
production  and  consumption ;  it  has  lightened  many  bur- 
dens ;  and  in  many  cases  the  Treasury  has  derived  a  far 
greater  revenue  from  a  low  duty  than  it  had  ever  received 
from  a  high  one.  But  the  political  evil  of  narrowing 
the  basis  of  taxation  is  a  real  one,  and,  even  in  its  purely 
economical  aspects,  the  reaction  against  the  abuses  of  the  old 
fiscal  system  seems  to  have  been  carried  too  far.  It  is  not 
probable  that  a  single  loaf  of  bread  was  made  the  cheaper 
by  the  abolition,  in  1869,  of  the  shilling  registration  duty  on 
corn,  though  that  small  duty  at  the  time  it  was  repealed  by 
Mr.  Lowe  brought  more  than  900,000Z.  into  the  national 
exchequer,  and  would,  probably,  at  the  present  day  have 
brought  in  double  that  sum.  Not  one  Londoner  in  a  hun- 
dred even  knew  of  the  existence  of  the  small  duty  on  coal 
which  was  abolished  by  the  London  County  Council.  It  had 
existed  in  one  form  or  another  for  more  than  six  hundred 
years,  and  was  almost  the  oldest  of  our  taxes.  It  furnished 
an  income  of  more  than  500,000?.  a  year,  raised  without 
complaint,  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  metropolitan  improve- 
ments ;  and  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  any  human 

1  Greg's  Political  Problems,  p.  304. 


132  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

being,  except  a  few  rich  coalowners  and  middlemen,  derived 
any  benefit  from  its  abolition.1 

We  have  a  striking  instance — though  it  was  not  of  a 
democratic  character — of  the  manner  in  which  changes  in 
taxation  may  be  made  use  of  for  electioneering  purposes  in  the 
conduct  of  Mr.  Gladstone  in  making  the  abolition  of  the 
income-tax  his  election-cry  at  the  general  election  of  1874. 
The  circumstances  of  this  election  may  be  briefly  told.  Mr. 
Gladstone  was  not  obliged  to  go  to  the  country.  In  spite  of 
his  defeat  on  the  Irish  University  question  in  the  preceding 
year,  he  had  still  a  considerable  and  unbroken  majority, 
though  several  defeats  at  bye-elections  showed  clearly  that 
his  power  was  declining,  and  especially  that  the  upper  and 
middle  classes,  who  were  the  payers  of  income-tax,  were 
profoundly  shaken  in  their  allegiance  to  him.  The  income- 
tax-payers,  it  is  true,  were  not  even  then  an  absolute 
majority  of  the  electors,  but  they  formed  a  much  larger 
proportion  than  after'  the  Keform  Bill  of  1885.  They  in- 
cluded the  great  majority  of  the  voters  who  could  influence 
other  voters  ;  and  they  were  a  body  so  large  and  so  powerful 
that  there  was  no  reasonable  doubt  that  a  general  movement 
among  them  would  decide  the  fate  of  the  election.  The 
fortune  of  the  ministry  was  tolerably  certain  to  turn  upon 
the  question  whether  the  defection  in  this  notoriously 
wavering  class  could  be  arrested. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  Mr.  Gladstone, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  the  country,  suddenly  dissolved 
Parliament ;  and  he  issued  a  programme  to  his  electors 
which,  if  the  report  of  those  who  are  likely  to  be  best 
informed  is  not  wholly  erroneous,  was  ag  much  a  surprise 
to  most  of  his  colleagues  as  to  the  public.  The  times  were 
very  prosperous,  and  a  great  surplus  was  gathering  in  the 
Exchequer.  Mr.  Gladstone,  throwing  all  other  political 
questions  into  the  background,  resolved  to  utilise  this  surplus 

1  The  facts  relating  to  these  coal  dues  will  be  found  in  a  report  issued  by 
the  Coal,  Corn,  and  Finance  Committee  of  the  Corporation  of  London,  on  The 
Results  in  the  way  of  Fluctuations  and  Alterations  of  the  Price  of  Coal  in 
London  since  the  Abolition  of  the  Coal  Dues. 


THE   ELECTION   OF   1874  1 33 

for  election  purposes,  and  to  stake  his  chances  at  the  election 
upon  large  direct  offers  of  financial  relief  made  to  the  electors, 
but  especially  to  that  class  of  the  electors  who  were  known 
to  be  wavering  in  their  allegiance.  One  portion  of  his 
election  address  consisted  of  a  general  and  undefined  promise 
to  reduce  duties  and  assist  rates ;  but  the  part  which  at  once 
and  especially  riveted  the  attention  of  the  country  by  its 
conspicuous  novelty  and  boldness  was  a  definite  pledge  that 
if  he  won  the  election  he  would  abolish  the  income-tax. 
This  promise  at  once  became  the  leading  feature  of  the 
election.  It  was  urged  from  a  hundred  Liberal  platforms 
and  in  a  hundred  Liberal  newspapers  as  the  great  reason 
why  the  income-tax-payers  should  support  the  ministry. 
Every  elector  of  this  class,  as  he  went  to  the  poll,  was  clearly 
informed  that  he  had  a  direct  personal  money  interest  in 
the  triumph  of  the  Government. 

It  is  true  that  the  promise  of  Mr.  Gladstone  was  qualified 
by  the  following  vague  passage  in  his  election  address  :  '  I 
have  said  nothing  to  preclude  the  Government  from  asking 
Parliament  to  consider,  in  conjunction  with  these  great  remis- 
sions, what  moderate  assistance  could  be  had  from  judicious 
adjustments  of  existing  taxes.'  It  is  true  also,  that  in  a  later 
speech,  being  pressed  with  the  impossibility  of  repealing  the 
income-tax  without  imposing  other  taxation,  he  admitted 
that,  in  consideration  of  the  repeal  of  the  income-tax  and  the 
reduction  of  rates,  'property  ought  in  some  shape  and  to 
some  considerable  and  equitable  extent  to  make  some  fair 
contribution  towards  the  public  burdens.'  But  the  nature 
and  magnitude  of  this  contribution,  the  form  it  was  to  take, 
and  the  area  over  which  it  was  to  be  distributed,  were  never 
revealed  up  to  the  day  of  the  election.  Everything  relating 
to  it  was  left  perfectly  vague  and  shadowy.  One  point  only 
was  brought  before  the  electors  in  clear,  vivid,  unmistakable 
relief.  It  was,  that  if  Mr.  Gladstone  won  the  day  the 
income-tax  would  cease.  Such  a  promise,  unaccompanied 
by  any  distinct  statement  of  equivalent  burdens  to  be  irn* 
posed,  could  only  have  operated  as  a  direct  bribe  addressed  to 
that  great  section  of  the  electorate  whose  growing  alienation 


134  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

from  the  Government  was  the  chief  cause  of  the  dissolution. 
No  politician,  I  believe,  seriously  doubted  that  when  Mr. 
Gladstone  placed  the  abolition  of  the  income-tax  in  the 
forefront  of  the  battle,  his  object  was  to  win  the  income-tax- 
payers to  his  side. 

Some  strictures  that  I  ventured  to  make  on  this  trans- 
action in  a  former  book  elicited  from  Mr.  Gladstone  two 
articles  of  indignant  defence.1  No  one  who  judged  solely 
from  those  skilful  and  plausible  pages  would  imagine  that 
any  question  of  winning  votes,  or  arresting  a  political  defec- 
tion, or  gaining  a  party  triumph,  could  have  entered  even 
distantly  into  his  calculations.  He  was  merely,  he  said, 
'  consulting '  the  nation  '  upon  the  exercise  of  its  chief  and 
primary  right  of  giving  or  withholding  taxes ; '  upon  '  a 
great  subject  of  financial  readjustment.'  '  The  rights  of  the 
people,'  as  he  truly  said,  '  in  respect  to  taxation  are  older, 
higher,  clearer  than  in  respect  to  any  other  subject  of  govern- 
ment.' He  at  the  same  time  asserted  that  his  censor  '  ought 
to  have  known,  and  to  have  stated,  that  with  the  proposal  to 
repeal  the  income-tax  came  a  proposal  to  reconstruct  and 
enlarge  the  death  duties.  Direct  taxation  of  a  kind  most 
vexatious  to  trade  and  industry  was  to  be  removed — direct 
taxation,  the  least  of  all  unfavourable  to  trade  and  industry,  .  .  . 
was  to  be  imposed.' 

The  assertion  so  confidently  made  in  this  passage  was 
simply  untrue,  and  is  a  curious  instance  of  the  lapse  of 
memory  into  which,  by  too  hasty  writing,  its  author  has 
sometimes  been  betrayed.  No  proposal  of  this  kind  was 
made.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  obliged  in  his  second  article 
to  confess  that  on  this  point  his  memory  had  betrayed  him, 
and  that  his  critic  was  right ;  but  he  at  once  changed  his 
ground,  and  argued  that  it  would  have  been  exceedingly 
prejudicial  to  the  public  service  if  he  had  disclosed  at  the 
election  the  '  readjustment '  of  taxation  which  he  had  con- 
templated, as  such  a  disclosure  would  have  enabled  the  tax- 
payer to  evade  the  coming  burden.     '  The  disclosure  of  the 

1  Nineteenth  Century,  June  and  August  1887.     A  brief  article  of  my  own 
will  be  found  in  the  July  number. 


THE   ELECTION   OF   1874  1 35 

particulars  of  the  plan  would  have  been  both  wholly  novel 
and  in  the  highest  degree  mischievous  to  the  public  interest.' 
It  is,  surely,  sufficiently  obvious  to  reply  that  this  fact  is  a 
very  conclusive  argument  against  the  propriety  of  throwing 
such  a  matter  into  an  election  programme.  '  The  ancient 
right  '  of  the  people  to  be  consulted  on  adjustments  of  taxa- 
tion can  hardly  be  very  valuable  when  the  condition  of  the 
consultation  is  that  the  nature  of  the  adjustment  should  be 
concealed.  Stated  fully  to  the  electors,  Mr.  Gladstone's 
proposal  would,  according  to  his  own  showing,  have  defeated 
itself.  Stated  as  it  was  stated,  it  amounted  to  little  more 
than  a  naked  promise,  that  if  a  certain  class  of  voters  would 
maintain  the  Government  in  power,  they  should  be  freed 
from  a  burdensome  tax. 

But  Mr.  Gladstone  takes  a  much  higher  ground  than 
that  of  mere  apology,  and  assures  us  that  his  real  motive  in 
this  transaction  was  'the  fulfilment  of  a  solemn  duty.'  He 
considered  the  income-tax  unjust,  unequal,  and  demoralising  ; 
twenty-one  years  before  he  had  formed  part  of  a  ministry 
which  promised  to  abolish  it.  This  pledge,  after  a  long 
slumber,  revived  in  its  full  vitality  at  the  eve  of  the  election, 
and  he  offered  the  electors  '  the  payment  of  a  debt  of  honour.' 

I  have  little  doubt  that  Mr.  Gladstone  succeeded  in 
persuading  himself  that  this  mode  of  reasoning  was  legiti- 
mate, but  the  answer  to  it  is  very  simple.  It  was  perfectly 
open  to  him  to  have  introduced  into  Parliament  a  Budget 
abolishing  the  income-tax  and  carrying  out,  after  full  exposi- 
tion and  discussion,  such  other  financial  arrangements  as  he 
deemed  desirable.  Had  he  pursued  this  usual  and  regular 
course,  no  shadow  of  blame  or  discredit  could  have  been 
attached  to  him,  and  he  would,  very  probably,  have  rendered 
a  real  service  to  the  country.  But  it  was  a  wholly  different 
thing  to  throw  a  half-disclosed  and  fragmentary  Budget 
before  the  constituencies  at  a  general  election,  making  the 
simple  abolition  of  a  specific  tax  the  main  ground  for  asking 
the  votes  of  those  who  paid  it.  A  Minister  who,  seeing 
the  popularity  of  his  Government  visibly  declining,  deter- 
mined to  dissolve  Parliament  before  introducing  his  Budget, 


136  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  to  make  his  election-cry  a  promise  to  abolish  the 
chief  direct  tax  paid  by  a  great  wavering  body  of  electors, 
may  have  been  actuated  by  no  other  object  than  '  the  fulfil- 
ment of  a  solemn  duty.'  But  in  ordinary  men  such  conduct 
would  imply  other  motives  ;  and  such  men  undoubtedly 
co-operated  with  Mr.  Gladstone  in  the  struggle,  and  such 
men  will,  for  their  own  purposes,  follow  his  example.  In  my 
opinion,  few  worse  examples  could  have  been  given,  and  the 
constituencies  in  defeating  Mr.  Gladstone  at  this  election 
rendered  no  small  service  to  political  morality. 

Another  argument  of  a  curiously  ingenious  and  charac- 
teristic nature  must  be  noticed.  I  had  said  that  the  meaning 
of  Mr.  Gladstone's  address  was,  that  if  he  won  the  day  the 
income-tax  would  cease.  The  statement  is  literally  and 
incontestably  true;  but  Mr.  Gladstone  very  dexterously  met 
it  by  declaring  that  it  is  an  entire  misrepresentation  and  an 
evidence  of  extreme  ignorance  to  describe  the  election  as  if 
it  was  fought  on  the  issue  of  the  income-tax.  It  was  not  a 
question  of  one  party  supporting  and  the  other  opposing  the 
abolition.  '  This  supposed  historical  fact  is  a  pure  historical 
fiction.'  Both  parties  promised  the  abolition, .  and  both 
parties,  therefore,  stood  on  the  same  footing1. 

A  few  words  of  explanation  will,  I  think,  place  this 
matter  in  its  true  light.  When  Mr.  Gladstone  issued  his 
election  address,  Mr.  Disraeli  was  evidently  taken  by  surprise. 
He  was  much  alarmed  lest  this  novel  and  unprecedented 
course  might  produce  a  great  wave  of  popularity,  and  sweep 
the  main  body  of  income-tax-payers  into  his  rival's  net.  He, 
accordingly,  promptly  replied  that  he  also  was  in  favour  of 
the  abolition  of  the  income-tax,  and  had  always  been  opposed 
to  it.  This  implied  promise  was  thought  by  many  good 
judges  at  the  time  to  have  been  an  exceedingly  improper 
one ;  and  I  am  in  no  way  bound  to  defend  it,  though  it  is 
but  justice  to  add  that  Mr.  Disraeli  stated  that  he  was  only 
in  favour  of  the  abolition  in  case  the  surplus  was  sufficiently 
large  to  make  it  possible  without  the  imposition  of  fresh 
taxation.1     But  surely  it  is  mere  sophistry  to  argue  that  the 

1  Annual  Register,  1874,  p.  9. 


THE   ELECTION   OF   1874  1 37 

conduct  of  Mr.  Disraeli  affects  the  character  of  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's original  address.  Is  it  not  perfectly  notorious  that 
the  popularity  which  Mr.  Gladstone's  promise  was  expected  to 
produce  in  this  great  wavering  portion  of  the  constituencies 
was  the  element  of  success  on  which  his  followers  most  confi- 
dently relied?  Did  they  not,  after  Mr.  Disraeli's  reply,  still  urge 
(and  with  much  reason)  the  special  claim  which  Mr.  Glad- 
stone had  established  on  the  voters  by  forcing  the  question 
into  the  van,  and  also  that  he  was  much  more  competent  than 
his  rival  to  carry  the  proposal  into  effect  ?  Is  the  fact  that 
Mr.  Gladstone's  example  was  so  speedily  followed  a  proof  that 
it  was  not  pernicious,  and  was  not  likely  to  be  contagious  ? 

A  much  more  serious  argument  is,  that  among  the 
questions  that  have  at  different  times  been  brought,  with 
general  consent,  before  the  constituencies  there  have  been 
many,  such  as  the  abolition  of  the  corn  laws,  or  local  taxa- 
tion, or  economical  reform,  in  which  a  private  pecuniary 
interest,  as  well  as  a  public  interest,  must  have  been 
presented  to  the  elector.  The  statement  is  perfectly  true, 
and  I  have  no  wish  to  dispute  or  evade  its  force.  Public  and 
private  interest  are,  undoubtedly,  often  so  blended  in  politics 
that  it  is  not  possible  wholly  to  disentangle  them.  The  differ- 
ence between  an  election  which  is  mainly  governed  by  low 
motives  of  private  interest,  and  an  election  which  is  mainly 
governed  by  high  motives  of  public  spirit,  is  very  great,  but  it 
is  essentially  a  difference  of  proportion  and  degree.  All  that 
can  be  said  is,  that  it  will  depend  largely  on  a  minister  to  de- 
termine at  an  election  which  of  these  classes  of  motives  pre- 
ponderate. Each  dubious  case  must  be  judged  by  the  common 
sense  of  the  community  on  its  own  merits,  and  in  the  light  of 
its  own  special  circumstances.  In  former  days,  private  interest 
was  chiefly  brought  to  bear  upon  elections  by  the  process  of 
corruption  applied  to  individual  voters.  In  modern  days, 
bribery  has  changed  its  character,  and  is  much  more  likely 
to  be  applied  to  classes  than  to  individuals.  Manipulations 
of  taxation,  and  other  legislative  offers  dexterously  adapted  to 
catch  in  critical  times  the  votes  of  particular  sections  of  the 
electorate,  are  the  evils  which  are  chiefly  to  be  feared,  and,  of 


138  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

this  kind  of  evil,  the  course  adopted  by  Mr.  Gladstone  in  1874 
still  appears  to  me  to  have  been  a  conspicuous  example. 

Many  other  illustrations  might  be  given.  No  one  who 
has  carefully  followed  Irish  politics  during  the  period  of  the 
Land  League  agitation  can  doubt  that  appeals  to  the  cupidity 
of  electors  formed  the  mainspring  of  the  whole  machine. 
Other  motives  and  elements,  no  doubt,  entered  largely  into 
the  calculations  of  the  leaders ;  and  with  them  a  desire  to 
drive  the  landlord  from  his  property  was  not  in  itself  an  end, 
but  rather  a  means  of  obtaining  political  ascendency  and 
separation  from  England.  But  it  is  notorious  that  the 
effectual  inducement  they  held  out  to  the  great  body  of  the 
farming  class  to  support  them  was  the  persuasion  that  it  was 
possible  by  the  use  of  political  means  to  break  contracts, 
lower  rents,  and  confiscate  property.  Nor  can  it  be  denied 
that  the  legislation  of  the  Imperial  Parliament  has  gone  a 
long  way  to  justify  their  prevision. 

I  do  not  include  in  this  charge  the  Land  Act  of  1870, 
which  appears  to  me  to  have  been,  in  its  main  lines,  though 
not  in  all  its  parts,  a  wise  and  comprehensive  effort  to  deal 
with  one  of  the  most  difficult  and  complicated  questions 
that  have  appeared  in  English  politics.  The  elements  of 
the  problem  were  very  numerous.  There  was  the  imperfect 
sympathy  between  the  land-owning  and  land-cultivating 
classes,  arising  originally  from  historical  causes,  from  differ- 
ences of  religion,  politics,  and,  in  some  degree,  of  race,  and 
in  modern  times  strengthened  by  the  Famine  and  the 
Encumbered  Estates  Act,  which  created  a  multitude  of  new 
landlords,  largely  drawn  from  the  trading  classes,  who  had 
no  knowledge  of  the  traditions  and  customs  of  the  estates 
they  acquired,  and  who  often  purchased  with  borrowed 
money  and  as  a  commercial  investment.  Improvements, 
too,  in  Ireland  were  for  the  most  part  made  by  the  tenant, 
and  not  by  the  landlord ;  and  although  the  rents  were  in 
general  proportionately  lower  than  in  England,  although  on 
most  old  estates  a  long  tenure  at  low  rents  amply  com- 
pensated the  tenant  for  his  outlay,  there  were,  undoubtedly, 
cases  where  the  advent  of  a  new  proprietor,  or   a  sudden 


THE   IRISH   LAND   QUESTION  1 39 

rise  in  rents  or  depreciation  in  values,  led  to  a  virtual  confisca- 
tion of  tenants'  improvements.  Leases  had  been  for  some 
years  diminishing,  and  tenancies  at  will  became  general. 
The  custom  of  tenant-right  was  general  in  Ulster  and 
occasional  in  other  provinces,  though  it  subsisted  without 
the  smallest  sanction  or  protection  of  the  law.  Usage 
unsanctioned  by  law  played  a  large  part  in  Irish  agrarian 
life  ;  and  there  was  a  bad  custom  of  allowing  rents  to  be  paid, 
in  many  parts  of  the  country,  with  extreme  irregularity, 
according  to  the  good  or  bad  seasons,  and  leaving  the  arrears 
of  many  years  outstanding,  not  claimed,  and  not  wiped 
away.  It  must  be  added,  that  the  small  number  of  manu- 
factures had  thrown  the  population,  to  an  unhealthy  extent, 
for  subsistence  on  the  soil  ;  that  political  agitation  had 
already  done  much  to  inflame  class  animosities  and  accen- 
tuate class  divisions,  and  that  there  were  grave  faults  on 
both  sides.  Wretched  farming  ;  thriftless,  extravagant,  un- 
businesslike habits  in  all  classes  ;  a  great  want  of  enterprise 
and  steady  industry  ;  much  neglect  of  duty,  and  occasional, 
though  not,  I  think,  frequent,  acts  of  oppression  and  extor- 
tion, all  contributed  to  complicate  the  task  of  the  legislator. 

In  my  own  opinion,  it  should  have  been  his  object  to  secure 
to  the  tenants  compensation  for  all  future  improvements  ;  to 
bring  back  by  special  inducements  a  land  system  resting  on 
definite  written  contracts  ;  to  give  legal  character  to  tenant- 
right  when  it  was  generally  acknowledged  ;  and  to  assist  by 
Government  measures  in  the  formation  of  a  peasant  pro- 
prietary, or,  what  was  politically  scarcely  less  valuable,  of  a 
class  of  tenants  holding  land  for  ever  at  a  low  fixed  rent. 

The  question  of  tenants'  improvements  especially  was  of 
vital  importance,  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  real  of  Irish 
grievances  that  Parliament,  in  spite  of  the  clearest  warnings, 
so  long  neglected  to  attend  to  it. 

Some  years  before  the  Famine  Sharman  Crawford  had 
devoted  himself  with  much  zeal  to  the  subject,  and  had 
repeatedly  brought  into  the  House  of  Commons  a  Bill  which 
would  have  effectually  met  it.  He  proposed  that  when  a 
tenant    made   improvements    which    were    of    a    nature    to 


140  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

produce  an  increased  rent,  and  which  had  not  been  included 
in  the  terms  of  his  existing  lease,  these  improvements  should 
be  duly  valued  ;  that  the  tenant,  at  the  expiry  of  his  term, 
should  have  the  right  to  claim  either  immediate  money 
compensation  from  the  landlord  or  a  prolongation  of  his 
tenancy  ;  and  that,  in  fixing  the  new  rent,  the  value  of  the 
unremunerated  improvements  should  be  taken  into  account, 
so  that  the  tenant  might  be  repaid  for  them  in  the  course  of 
the  succeeding  tenancy.1 

The  Devon  Commissioners,  who  sat  under  a  commission 
ordered  at  the  end  of  1843,  collected  a  great  deal  of  valuable 
information  on  the  subject,  and  treated  it  in  an  eminently 
judicial  spirit.  They  acknowledged  that  '  there  had  not  been 
brought  many  cases  to  show  that  it  had  been  the  practice  of 
land-proprietors  to  take  advantage  of  improving  tenants  who 
had  invested  money  without  a  lease  or  other  security.'  They 
acknowledged  also,  that  '  it  had  not  been  shown  that  tenants 
possessing  long  and  beneficial  leases  of  the  lands  had  in  general 
brought  them  to  a  high  state  of  improvement ; '  that,  in  fact, 
there  was  evidence  '  that  lands  let  upon  very  long  terms,  and 
at  very  low  rents,  were  in  a  worse  condition,  and  their  occu- 
piers even  more  embarrassed,  than  others.'  On  the  other 
hand,  they  urged  that  cases  of  the  confiscation  of  tenants' 
improvements  had  occurred  ;  that  a  tenant  at  will  or  a  tenant 
with  a  very  short  lease  was  always  liable  to  them ;  that  '  a 
single  instance  occurring  in  a  large  district  would  naturally 
paralyse  exertion  to  an  incalculable  extent ; '  that  the  possi- 
bility and  extreme  facility  of  such  confiscation  in  the  existing 
state  of  the  law  was  a  gross  injustice  to  the  tenant,  discouraged 
in  the  most  powerful  manner  a  kind  of  investment  which 
was  naturally  very  profitable  both  to  the  tenant  class  and  to 
agriculture  in  general,  and  directly  or  indirectly  contributed 
largely  to  most  of  the  social  evils  of  Ireland.  They  recom- 
mended, as  of  the  highest  importance  to  Ireland,  a  law 
giving  tenants  in  the  future  compensation  for  permanent 
and  productive  improvements,  and  framed  upon  the  follow- 
ing  principles.     Agreements   between  landlord  and  tenant 

1  See  the  Digest  of  the  Evidence  of  the  Devon  Commission,  pt.  i.  164-66. 


TENANTS'   IMPROVEMENTS.      LAND   ACT,    1860        141 

relative  to  such  improvements  were  to  be  duly  registered, 
and,  in  cases  where  it  was  found  impossible  to  arrive  at  such 
agreement,  a  tenant  was  to  serve  a  notice  on  the  landlord  of 
his  intention  to  make  suitable  improvements.  Mutually 
chosen  arbitrators  were  to  report  upon  them,  and  the 
assistant  barrister,  after  such  report,  and  after  examination, 
was  to  certify  the  maximum  cost,  not  exceeding  three  years' 
rent.  If  the  tenant  was  ejected,  or  if  his  rent  was  raised 
within  thirty  years,  the  landlord  was  to  pay  such  a  sum,  not 
exceeding  the  maximum  fixed,  as  the  work  shall  be  then 
valued  at.  The  improvements  were  to  be  completed  within 
a  limited  time,  and  the  landlord  was  to  have  the  option  of 
making  them  himself,  charging  5  per  cent,  on  the  outlay.1 

A  Government  measure  based  on  this  report  was  intro- 
duced by  Lord  Stanley,  in  a  speech  of  great  power,  in  1845, 
and  by  Lord  Lincoln  in  1846.  In  the  first  case  it  was  aban- 
doned in  the  face  of  very  determined  opposition.  In  the 
second,  it  fell  through  on  account  of  the  overthrow  of  the 
Government  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  which  had  introduced  it. 
Several  attempts  in  the  same  direction  were  made  in  the 
following  years,  the  most  remarkable  being  the  Bill  of  Mr. 
Napier,  the  Irish  Attorney-General  of  Lord  Derby's  Govern- 
ment, in  1852,  which  had  a  retrospective  character  applying 
to  all  past  improvements.  None  of  these  measures,  however, 
ultimately  succeeded,  and  the  advice  of  the  Devon  Commis- 
sion was  neglected. 

Besides  the  question  of  improvements,  it  was  clearly 
recognised  that  something  must  be  done  to  prevent  the  too 
frequent  evictions,  or  threatened  evictions,  and  the  Land  Act 
of  1860  did  something  in  this  direction.  This  Act,  which 
was  passed  by  a  Liberal  Government,  affirmed  in  the  clearest 
terms  that  the  relations  of  landlord  and  tenant  in  Ireland 
rested  solely  '  on  the  express  or  implied  contract  of  the 
parties,  and  not  upon  tenure  or  service  ; '  but  it  at  the  same 
time  provided  that  the  landlord  could  bring  no  ejectment  for 
non-payment  of  rent  till  a  year's  rent  under  the  contract  of 
tenancy  was  in  arrear  ;  and  that,  even  after  the  ejectment 
1  Digest  of  the  Evidence  of  the  Devon  Commission,  pt.  ii.  1124-112;'). 


142  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

had  taken  place,  and  the  landlord  was  in  possession  of  the 
farm,  the  tenant  might  apply  to  the  court  for  his  rein- 
statement if,  within  six  months  after  his  ejection,  he  paid  his 
rent  and  costs.  A  clause  which  appears  to  have  been  imitated 
from  the  French  Civil  Code  !  authorised  the  tenant  to  remove 
*  all  personal  chattels,  engines,  machinery,  and  buildings  ac- 
cessorial thereto  affixed  to  the  freehold  by  the  tenant  at  his 
own  expense,'  provided  this  could  be  done  without  injuring 
the  freehold  as  it  existed  when  he  first  received  it ;  and 
another  clause  established  the  right  of  the  tenant  to  cut  turf, 
in  the  absence  of  any  express  agreement  to  the  contrary,  on 
any  unreclaimed  turf  bog  on  his  tenancy.  It  may  be  added, 
that  Acts  of  the  old  Irish  Parliament  had  long  since  given, 
the  leaseholder  a  right  of  property  in  the  trees  he  had  planted, 
provided  they  were  duly  registered. 

'  The  very  comprehensive  and  elaborate  Act  of  1870  went 
much  further,  and  it  was  inspired  by  an  evident  desire  to  do 
justice  to  all  parties ;  though,  in  the  vast  range  of  its  pro- 
visions, there  were  some  which  have  proved  prolific  in  dan- 
gerous consequences  not,  I  believe,  clearly  foreseen  by  its 
authors.  One  valuable  portion  of  the  Act  followed  and 
extended  the  policy,  which  had  been  adopted  in  the  Church 
Act,  of  endeavouring  to  create  a  peasant  proprietary.  It 
authorised  advances  not  exceeding  two-thirds  of  the  purchase 
money,  and  repayable  by  an  annuity  of  5  per  cent,  in  thirty- 
five  years,  to  any  tenant  who  desired  to  purchase  his  holding. 
Another  portion  recognised,  in  the  largest  and  fullest  terms, 
the  right  of  the  tenant  to  compensation  for  his  improvements, 
which  are  defined  as  works  adding  to  the  letting  value  of  the 
holding,  and  suitable  to  it,  and  also  to  his  crops  and  his  unex- 
hausted manure.  This  right  was  not  destroyed  by  an  ejection 
for  non-payment  of  rent.  It  was  not  confined  to  improvements 
made  subsequent  to  the  Act.  With  certain  clearly  defined  ex- 
ceptions, it  applied  to  all  improvements  made  by  the  tenant  or 
his  predecessors  in  title.  In  the  case  of  permanent  buildings 
and  reclamation  of  waste  land  there  was  no  limit  of  time.  In 
the  case  of  other  improvements  there  was  a  limit  of  twenty 
1  See  Richey  on  The  Irish  Land  Laws,  pp.  50-51. 


LAND   ACT,   1870  1 43 

years.  It  was  enacted  that  improvements,  except  in  certain 
specified  instances,  should  be  deemed  to  have  been  made  by 
the  tenant  or  his  predecessors,  unless  the  contrary  had  been 
proved,  thus  reversing  the  old  legal  presumption  that  what- 
ever is  added  to  the  soil  belongs  to  the  landlord.  Durable 
and  written  contracts  and  tenant-right  were  encouraged  by 
clauses  limiting  the  improvements  for  which  a  landlord  was 
liable  whenever  he  granted  a  long  lease,  and  permitting  a 
departing  tenant  to  dispose  of  the  interests  of  his  improve- 
ments to  an  incoming  tenant  on  terms  that  were  approved 
of  by  the  court. 

The  Ulster  tenant-right — or,  in  other  words,  the  right  of 
a  tenant  to  sell  his  interest  in  his  farm — received  the  force  of 
law,  and  it  was  extended  to  all  parts  of  Ireland.  In  Ulster 
the  existing  tenants  had  purchased  their  tenant-right,  and 
they  only  obtained  legal  security  for  what  was  already  theirs 
by  usage.  In  the  other  parts  of  Ireland  a  saleable  property 
which  they  had  not  bought  was  conferred  upon  them.  One 
consequence  of  this  was,  that  the  boon  was  a  much  greater 
one  to  the  first  generation  of  tenants,  who  received  it  as  a 
gift,  than  it  was  likely  to  be  to  their  successors,  who  would 
in  due  course  purchase  their  tenant-right.  Another  conse- 
quence, which  was  probably  not  foreseen,  was  that  the 
tenants  borrowed  largely  on  their  new  security ;  and  it  was 
from  this  time  that  the  '  gombeen  man,'  or  local  usurer,  ob- 
tained his  great  prominence  in  Irish  life.  A  provision,  to 
which,  I  believe,  there  was  then  no  parallel  in  the  legisla- 
tion of  the  world,  provided  that  a  tenant  who  had  accepted 
a  tenancy  from  year  to  year  could  not  be  removed,  except 
at  a  ruinous  cost,  at  the  date  at  which  his  tenancy  was 
terminable.  Except  in  case  of  non-payment  of  rent,  bank- 
ruptcy, or  violation  of  specified  conditions  of  tenancy,  the 
landlord  had  no  power  of  resuming  possession  of  his  land 
without  paying  the  tenant  a  fine  for  '  disturbance,'  which 
might,  in  some  cases,  amount  to  seven  years'  rent.  It  will 
be  observed  that  this  '  disturbance  '  was  not  an  illegal  act.  It 
was  simply  the  enforcement  by  the  landlord  of  a  plain  and 
incontestable  right  secured  to  him  by  the  contract  under 


144  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

which  he  freely  parted  from  his  land.     As  Judge  Longfield 
has  observed,  it  was  possible  for  a  landlord  under  this  law  to 
put  a  tenant  in  possession  as  tenant  from  year  to  year,  to 
•  leave  him  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  for  five  years,  and  then  to 
be  obliged  to  pay  him  seven  years'  rent  as  a  fine  for  removing 
him  from  it.1     This  compensation  was  quite  distinct  from 
that  given  for   improvements  in  the    shape   of   permanent 
buildings  or  reclamation    of   the    soil.     A   landlord   might, 
however,  free  himself  from  this  claim  by  giving  a  long  lease. 
The  statesman  who  introduced  the  Act  very  clearly  stated 
that  it  was  not  intended  to  give  the  tenant  at  will  a  proprietary 
right  in  his  holding,  but  the  provisions  relating  to  disturbance 
plainly  and  unquestionably  had  this  effect.     Some  faint  and 
distant  analogy  may  be  discovered  between  this  legislation 
and   the  English  tenure  of  copyhold,  which  grew  out    of 
tenancies  at  will  that  had  existed  undisturbed  in  the  same 
families  for  many  generations,  and  which  the  law  at  last 
recognised   as   a   permanent    tenure,  to  be  enjoyed  by  the 
tenants  and  their  heirs,  subject  to  the  conditions  prescribed 
by  immemorial  custom  in  the  manor.     The  Irish  law,  how- 
ever, applied  to  the  newest  as  well  as  to  the  oldest  tenancies. 
It  was  defended,  partly  on  the  ground  that  usage  in  most  parts 
of  Ireland  made  a  yearly  tenant  secure  that  he  would  con- 
tinue undisturbed  in  his  tenancy  as  long  as  he  paid  his  rent ; 
partly  as  a  measure  intended  to  discourage  the  great  political 
evil  of  unnecessary  evictions ;  partly  on  the  ground  that  it 
was  likely  to  be  beneficial  to  both  landlord  and  tenant,  by 
giving  the  tenant  strong  additional  reasons  for  punctually 
observing  the  conditions  of  his  tenancy.     It  was  said  that  it 
merely  gave  the  tenant  of  a  bad  landlord  the  security  which 
the  tenant  of  a  good  landlord  already  enjoyed,  and  that,  in  the 
case  of  small  farmers,  an  increased  stability  of  tenure  would 
be  not  only  a  great  political  advantage,  but  also  a  great  in- 
centive to  better  agriculture.  Even  eviction  for  non-payment 
of  rent  might  be  deemed  a  '  disturbance  '  establishing  a  claim 
for  compensation  if,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Land  Court,  the 
rent  was   an   exorbitant  one,  or   if   the   arrears   that  were 

1  Systems  of  Land  Tenure  (Cobden  Club),  p.  78. 


LAND   ACT,   1870  1 45 

demanded  had  not  wholly  accrued  within  the  previous  three 
years.  The  right  of  compensation  for  disturbance  applied  to 
all  tenancies  from  year  to  year,  or  held  on  leases  for  less  than 
thirty-one  years  created  after  the  Act  had  passed,  and  also  to 
all  tenancies  from  year  to  year  existing  when  the  Act  was 
passed  which  were  under  the  value  of  100?.  a  year. 

The  Legislature  considered,  with  some  reason,  that  the 
smaller  tenants  were  too  poor  to  make  their  own  bargains. 
Agreements  between  landlord  and  tenant,  under  which  the 
latter  gave  up  their  rights  to  certain  privileges  granted  by 
the  Act,  were  in  a  large  number  of  cases  made  null  and  void. 
These  clauses  prohibiting  grown-up  men  from  making  their 
own  bargains  have  been  the  fruitful  parents  of  much  later 
legislation.  The  principle  passed  into  England  in  the  Ground 
Game  Act  of  1880,  which  made  it  impossible  for  an  English 
tenant  to  divest  himself  by  agreement  with  the  landlord  of  the 
right  of  killing  hares  and  rabbits  ;  and  a  tendency  to  introduce 
the  same  principle  of  compulsion  into  the  largest  possible 
number  of  contracts  relating  to  land  and  trade  seems  fast  be- 
coming a  distinctive  feature  of  advanced  English  Liberalism. 

The  Irish  Land  Act  of  1870,  in  its  consequences,  was 
certainly  one  of  the  most  important  measures  of  the  present 
century.  It  appears  to  me  to  have  been  introduced  with 
much  integrity  of  motive,  and  in  many  of  its  parts  it  proved 
very  beneficial.  The  recognition  of  a  tenant's  right  to  the 
improvements  he  had  made  ;  the  recognition  of  the  Ulster 
tenant-right  ;  the  encouragement  given  to  the  substitution 
of  written  leases  and  contracts  for  the  system  of  tenants  at 
will ;  the  measures  taken  to  create  a  peasant  proprietary, 
were  all  marked  with  much  wisdom.  Capricious  notices  to 
quit,  or  notices  to  quit  given  for  the  mere  purpose  of  accele- 
rating the  payment  of  rent,  were  discouraged  by  the  imposition 
of  a  stamp  duty,  and  there  was  a  useful  provision  granting 
loans  of  public  money  for  the  reclamation  of  waste  land.  I 
cannot,  however,  reconcile  with  the  rights  of  property  the 
retrospective  clause  making  a  landlord  liable  for  improve- 
ments made  by  tenants  at  a  time  when  no  such  liability  was 
recognised  by  law,  and  with  a  clear  knowledge  of  that  fact  ; 

vol.  1.  1. 


146  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  the  clause  giving  a  yearly  tenant  compensation  for 
simple  disturbance  if  he  was  removed  at  the  end  of  the  year 
seems  to  me  essentially  dishonest,  and  the  germ  of  much  evil 
that  followed.  It  was  not  altogether  a  new  importation  into 
Irish  politics.  In  1866,  Sir  Colman  O'Loughlin  brought 
in  a  Bill  for  discouraging  annual  letting  and  precarious 
tenancies,  and  one  of  its  clauses  gave  compensation  to 
a  yearly  tenant  if  he  was  ejected  for  any  other  cause  than 
nonpayment  of  rent.  This  Bill  was  thrown  out  by  a  large 
majority.1 

It  is  probable  that  the  Act  of  1870  would  have  been  more 
successful  if  it  had  been  less  ambitious,  and  had  aimed  at  a 
smaller  number  of  objects.  The  difficulty,  however,  of  the 
task  was  extremely  great,  and  much  allowance  must  be  made 
for  the  statesmen  who  framed  it.  The  two  features  of  the 
old  Irish  land  system  which  made  the  position  of  the  Irish 
tenant  most  precarious  were  the  general  absence  of  leases, 
and  the  custom  of  the  tenant,  not  the  landlord,  making  most 
improvements.  Neither  of  these  points  was,  in  most  cases,  a 
matter  of  much  dispute  between  landlord  and  tenant.  Those 
who  are  best  acquainted  with  the  conditions  of  Irish  land 
before  the  recent  legislation  will,  I  believe,  agree  with  me 
that  the  majority  of  smaller  tenants  preferred  a  yearly  tenancy, 
which  was  rarely  changed,  to  a  definite  lease,  which  usually 
involved  stricter  covenants,  and  was  likely  when  it  expired  to 
be  followed  by  a  revaluation  and  rise  of  rents  ;  and  that  they 
preferred  making  their  improvements  in  their  own  econo- 
mical, and  generally  slovenly,  way,  rather  than  have  them 
made  in  the  English  fashion  by  the  landlord,  who  compensates 
himself  by  adding  a  percentage  to  the  rent.  If  the  rent  is 
sufficiently  low,  and  the  tenure  sufficiently  long  to  compensate 
the  tenant  for  his  outlay,  there  is  nothing  in  this  system 
that  is  unjust;  nor  is  it  unjust  that,  after  the  tenant  has  been 
so  compensated,  the  land  should  be  rented  according  to  its  im- 
proved value.  But  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  this  custom 
strengthened  that  notion  of  the  joint  ownership  of  the  soil 
which  had  such  a  deep  root  among  Irish  ideas.     In  many  of 

1  See  Sir  William  Gregory's  Anfobiograpluj,  p.  "243. 


IMPROVEMENTS   AND   RENTS  1 47 

the  poorer  parts  of  Ireland  the  cabin  built  by  the  peasant, 
the  clearing  of  stones,  and  the  erecting  of  fences,  constituted 
much  the  greater  part  of  the  value  of  the  farm.  These  little 
farms  of  barren  land  were,  indeed,  essentially  unsupporting. 
They  furnished  the  small  tenant  with  shelter  and  with 
potatoes  for  his  subsistence.  His  rent,  which  was  usually  not 
more  than  about  41.  a  year,  and  very  irregularly  paid,  was 
earned  sometimes  by  fishing,  more  frequently  as  a  migratory 
labourer,  and  often  by  harvest-work  in  England  or  Scotland. 

In  the  fertile  districts  the  conditions  were  different 
and  very  various.  Probably  the  greater  number  of  the 
original  improvements  had  been  made  under  the  old  system 
of  very  long  leases  at  very  low  rents.  In  many  cases  the 
erection  of  certain  buildings  was  expressly  stipulated  in  the 
lease,  and  was  one  of  the  elements  in  regulating  the  price. 
A  great  part  of  the  cost  of  drainage  which  has  been  made 
under  Government  loans  has  been  paid  by  the  landlords,  and 
in  very  many  cases  they  have  contributed  a  proportion  to  the 
cost  of  buildings  ;  but,  as  a  general  rule,  the  improvements 
were  made  by  the  tenant,  under  the  belief  that  he  would  enjoy 
his  tenancy  for  a  sufficient  time  and  at  a  sufficiently  low  rent 
to  compensate  him  for  them.  The  immense  deterioration 
of  Irish  land  through  bad  and  wasteful  farming  forms,  how- 
ever, a  considerable  offset  against  these  improvements. 

That  rents  in  Ireland  before  1870  were  not  in  general 
extortionate,  and  were,  indeed,  much  below  the  competition 
value,  is  abundantly  proved.1  It  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
wherever  tenant  right  was  permitted  this  right  of  occupation 

1  Comparisons  between  Irish  and  British  rents  are  apt  to  be  very  fallacious, 
on  account  of  the  different  systems  of  farming  and  payment  for  improvements. 
The  following  passage,  however,  from  a  pamphlet  by  one  of  the  greatest 
modern  authorities  on  statistics,  may  be  given  :  '  Before  the  period  of  distress,' 
writes  Sir  Edwin  Chadwick  in  1880, '  the  rents  in  Ireland  appeared  to  average  15s. 
an  acre  for  tillage  land  (it  is  now  declared  to  be  on  an  average  under  10s.) ;  in  Eng- 
land, 23s.  an  acre.  In  Scotland,  on  inferior  tillage  lands  to  those  of  England,  the 
rents  were  40s.  and  more'  (Chadwick's  Alternative  Remedies  for  Ireland,^.  ID). 
On  tbe  comparison  between  Irish  and  foreign  rents  I  may  cite  M.  Molinari, 
one  of  the  most  competent  judges  on  the  Continent.  His  conclusion  is :  '  Le 
taux  general  des  rentes  est  modere  ;  autant  (pie  j'ai  pu  en  juger,  il  est  a  qualite 
egale  de  terrain,  de  moitie  plus  bas  que  celui  des  terres  des  Flandres  '  (L'Irlandc, 
le  Canada,  Jersey  (1881),  p.  138). 


148  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

sold  for  a  large  sum ;  by  the  fact  that  wherever  subletting 
was  permitted  the  tenant  almost  invariably  let  the  whole,  or 
portions  of  his  tenancy,  at  much  higher  rents  than  he  paid. 
It  is  proved  by  the  evidence  of  men  of  the  greatest  authority 
on  Irish  land,  such  as  Judge  Longfield  and  Master  Fitzgib- 
bon,  and  by  the  direct  testimony  of  the  Bessborough  Com- 
mission in  1881,  which,  after  a  long  and  careful  investigation, 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  in  Ireland  it  was  '  unusual  to 
exact  what  in  England  would  have  been  considered  as  a  full 
and  fair  commercial  rent.'  '  It  is  proved  by  comparison  with 
English  and  with  foreign  rents,  and  by  the  slow  increase  of 
Irish  rents,  as  compared  both  with  the  prices  of  the  chief 
articles  of  agricultural  produce  and  with  the  increase  of  rents 
in  other  parts  of  the  kingdom.  Arthur  Young,  in  his  day, 
considered  the  rents  paid  in  Ireland  to  the  owner  of  land 
unduly,  and  often  absurdly,  low  ;  and  in  bringing  in  the  Land 
Bill  of  1870,  Mr.  Gladstone  stated  that,  in  the  ninety  years 
that  had  elapsed  since  Arthur  Young  wrote,  the  rents  of 
Ireland  had  just  doubled,  and,  if  Ulster  were  excluded,  had 
much  less  than  doubled,  while  in  ninety-eight  years  the 
rental  of  England  had  trebled,  and  in  ninety-nine  years  the 
rental  of  Scotland  had  sextupled.2  If  we  take  a  shorter  period, 
and  a  period  of  great  prosperity,  we  shall  come  to  much  the 
same  conclusion.  Mr.  Caird,  who  is  one  of  the  best  modern 
authorities  on  agriculture,  computed  that  in  the  seven  years 
before  1869  '  the  land  rental  of  England  has  risen  7  per  cent., 
that  of  Scotland  8  per  cent.,  while  that  of  Ireland  appears  in 
the  same  time  to  have  advanced,  from  its  lowest  point,  not 
more  than  5i  per  cent.'  3    Taking  Ireland,  indeed,  as  a  whole, 

1  See  Report  of  the  Inquiry  into  the  Working  of  the  Landlord  and  Tenant 
Act,  1870,  p.  3  ;  Judge  Longfield's  essay,  in  the  Cobden  Club  volume,  on 
'  Systems  of  Land  Tenure  ; '  Fitzgibbon's  Ireland  in  1868,  pp.  268-70.  Judge 
Longfield  was  for  many  years  judge  of  the  Landed  Estates  Court,  and  probably 
the  first  authority  on  land  in  Ireland.  The  authority  of  Master  Fitzgibbon  is 
scarcely  less,  for  as  Master  of  Chancery  he  had  for  many  years  no  less  than  452 
estates,  with  more  than  18,000  tenants  and  a  rental  of  more  than  330,000/., 
under  his  jurisdiction. 

-  See  Mr.  Gladstone's  published  speech  on  introducing  the  Land  Bill  of 
1870,  pp.  26-27. 

3  The  Irish  Land  Question,  by  James  Caird  (1869),  p.  15. 


IRISH   RENTS  149 

it  is  probably  the  portion  of  the  United  Kingdom  in  which 
the  benefit  of  the  great  rise  in  the  price  of  agricultural 
produce  in  the  third  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century  has 
fallen  most  largely  to  the  labourers  and  tenants,  and  in  the 
smallest  degree  to  the  landlords.1 

But  although  it  is  not  true  that  Irish  rents  were  in 
general  unduly  high,  it  is  true  that  the  position  of  the  great 
body  of  the  Irish  tenants  was  utterly  precarious ;  that  in 
three  provinces  of  Ireland  many  causes  had  conspired  to 
break  down  the  good  feeling  between  landlord  and  tenant 
which  was  essential  to  a  sound  agrarian  state  ;  and  that 
cases  of  gross  oppression  and  extortion,  though  they  were  a 
small  minority,  did  exist,  and  were  not  infrequent.  Sublet- 
ting, it  is  true,  had  much  diminished,  and  with  it  the  chief 
cause  of  extravagant  rents.  No  fact  is  more  clearly  stamped 
upon  every  page  of  Irish  agrarian  history  than  that  men  of 
the  farmer  class  have  always  been  far  harsher  masters  than 
men  of  the  gentleman  class  ;  and  in  these  latter  days  there 
have  been  instances  of  tenants  holding  at  very  moderate 
rents  under  the  landlord,  and  actually  having  their  rents 
reduced  by  the  Land  Court,  at  the  very  time  when  they  were 
themselves  extorting  for  portions  of  the  same  land  extreme 
rack  rents  from  their  labourers.  To  no  spot  of  the  globe, 
indeed,  is  the  parable  of  the  servant  who,  having  been  for- 
given his  debt  by  his  own  master,  exacted  the  last  penny 
from  his  fellow-servant,  more  applicable  than  to  Ireland. 

But  among  rents  paid  to  the  actual  owner  of  the  soil  two 
classes  were  often  extortionate.  There  were  small  properties 
in  the  hands  of  men  of  narrow  means,  either  of  the  trading  or 
farming  classes,  and  there  were  tracts — often  extensive  tracts — 
which  had  been  bought  by  speculators  under  the  Incumbered 
Estates  Act,  usually  with  borrowed  money.  There  were  cases  in 
which  the  purchasers  at  once  sought,  by  extensive  clearances 
and  greatly  raised  rents,  to  recoup  themselves  for  their  outlay. 

1  Sir  It.  Gii'fen  speaks  of  '  the  stationariness  of  rents  in  Ireland  for  a  long 
period,  notwithstanding  the  great  rise  in  the  prices  of  the  cattle  and  dairy 
products  which  Ireland  produces  ;  '  and  he  adds  :  '  The  farmer  and  the  labourer 
together  have,  in  fact,  had  all  the  benefit  of  the  rise  in  agricultural  prices ' 
(Progress  of  the  Wen-king  Classes  in  the  last  Half -century). 


150  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

In  the  sale  of  these  estates  the  tenants  had  usually  been  un- 
protected by  lease.  The  law  under  which  the  estates  had 
been  sold  recognised  in  them  no  right  in  their  improvements, 
and  rents  were  sometimes  raised,  in  estates  which  had 
derived  most  of  their  value  from  recent  tenants'  improve- 
ments, in  a  manner  that  was  positively  fraudulent.  The 
purchaser  thought  only  of  his  legal  rights.  He  knew  no- 
thing and  he  cared  nothing  about  the  history  of  his  property.1 
Sometimes,  too,  on  older  estates,  particular  farms  might  be 
found  rented  at  a  strangely  higher  rate  than  those  around 
them.  The  explanation  is,  usually,  that  these  rents  had 
formerly  been  paid  to  a  middleman,  and  had  not  been 
revised  when  the  middleman  was  removed. 

The  Act  of  1870  had  many  merits,  but  it  admitted,  as  I 
believe,  a  dangerous  and  dishonest  principle.  The  Act  of 
1881  appears  to  me  one  of  the  most  unquestionable,  and 
indeed  extreme,  violations  of  the  rights  of  property  in  the 
whole  history  of  English  legislation.  In  order  to  realise  its 
character  it  is  only  necessary  to  remember  that  before  the 
legislation  of  Mr.  Gladstone  the  ownership  of  land  in  Ireland 
was,  like  that  in  France  and  in  America,  as  absolute  and  un- 
disputed as  the  ownership  of  a  house,  or  a  horse,  or  a  yacht. 
The  Incumbered  Estates  Act,  and  all  the  proceedings  con- 
nected wTith  it,  brought  this  fact  into  the  clearest  relief.  It 
had  been  the  policy  of  the  Whig  Government,  supported  in 
its  day  by  the  loud  applause  of  the  Liberal  party,  to  place 
landed  property  in  Ireland  on  the  strictest  commercial  basis. 
The  measure  was  carried  in  1849,  at  a  time  when  Ireland  was 
reduced  to  the  lowest  depths  of  misery  by  the  great  Famine, 
and  when  the  newly  imposed  poor  law  in  many  cases  equalled, 
in  some  cases  even  exceeded,  the  whole  valuation  income  of  an 
estate,  and  it  was  pressed  on  by  the  Liberal  party  with  extreme 
harshness,  to  the  ruin  of  countless  landlords  and  creditors. 

By  this  Act,  at  a  time  when  Irish  land  had  sunk  to  a 
mere  fraction  of  its  normal  value,  the  first  incumbrancer 
of  an  estate,  or  any  other  creditor  who  believed  that  the 

1  See  some  good  remarks  on  this  subject  by  Sir  W.  Gregory,  Autobiography. 
pp.  157-59. 


THE   INCUMBERED   ESTATES   ACT  1 51 

estate  would  fetch  a  price  large  enough  to  meet  the  payment 
of  his  own  demand,  might  force  the  estate  by  a  summary  pro- 
ceeding, and  before  a  newly  constituted  court,  into  the  market, 
utterly  regardless  of  the  interests  of  the  other  creditors  and 
of  the  owner.  Even-  creditor  except  the  petitioner  who  was 
forcing  the  sale  was  at  liberty  to  bid  ;  and  even  the  petitioner, 
by  leave  of  the  court  (which  was  easily  procured),  might 
become  the  purchaser  of  the  depreciated  property.  '  By 
this  new  process,'  writes  a  very  competent  lawyer,  '  estates 
were  sold  to  the  amount  of  many  millions,  during  the  years 
1849,  1850,  1851,  and  1852,  for  less  than  half  their  value,  and 
less  than  half  the  prices  which  the  same  estates  would  bring 
had  the  sale  been  deferred  till  the  end  of  1863.  Some  of  the 
most  ancient  and  respected  families  in  the  country,  whose 
estates  were  not  incumbered  to  much  more  than  half  their 
value,  were  sold  out  and  beggared ;  thousands  of  creditors 
whose  demands  would  have  been  paid  if  the  sales  had  not 
been  accelerated  were  not  reached,  and  lost  the  money 
which  they  had  lent  upon  what  was  ample  security  at  the 
time  it  was  lent,  and  would  again  have  become  sufficient 
security  had  the  property  not  been  ruined  by  the  poor  law 
and  sold  in  that  ruined  condition,  in  a  glutted  market,  under 
an  enactment  devised  for  the  professed  purpose  of  improving 
the  condition  of  Ireland.  The  law's  delay,  which  in  ordinary 
circumstances  is  a  grievance  and  a  vexation,  would  have  had 
a  salutary  and  a  just  effect  in  those  calamitous  times.  There 
was  no  justice  in  exonerating  the  early  incumbrancers  from 
all  participation  in  the  effects  of  the  visitation  which  had 
some  upon  the  country,  and  every  feeling  of  humanity  and 
every  principle  of  equity  demanded  temporary  indulgence 
from  them.  There  was  cruel  injustice  in  turning  a  destruc- 
tive visitation  of  Providence  into  an  advantage  to  them  which 
they  could  not  have  had  if  the  law  had  been  left  as  it  stood 
when  they  made  their  contracts  and  took  their  securities, 
and  as  it  still  stands  in  England.'  ' 

This  measure,  however,  was  at  that  time  put  forward  by 
the  AVhig  party    as    the    supreme    remedy    for    the    ills    of 
1  Fitzgibbon's  Ireland  in  tS'6S,  p.  208. 


152  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Ireland.  It  was  pushed  on  against  all  remonstrances,  and 
with  many  insults  to  the  broken  and  impoverished  landlords, 
who  were  now  fast  sinking  into  the  shades  of  night. 
Political  economy,  it  was  said,  was  vindicated,  and  with 
a  chorus  of  self-congratulation  the  Whig  leaders  proclaimed 
that  Irish  property  was  at  last  placed  on  its  true  basis,  that 
all  feudal  superstitions  had  been  effectually  exorcised,  and 
that  a  new  and  energetic  class  of  landlords  would  replace 
the  old  thriftless,  apathetic  landlords  of  the  past.  During  the 
last  twenty-five  years  the  main  object  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Liberal  party  has  been  to  undo  the  work  of  1849. 

Let  us  now  look  at  the  Incumbered  Estates  Act  from  an- 
other side.  The  purchaser  purchased  from  the  Government, 
and  at  the  invitation  of  the  Government,  the  complete  and 
absolute  ownership  of  the  estate,  subject  only  to  the  existing 
contracts  under  which  it  had  been  hired  out  to  the  tenants. 
He  bought  every  acre  of  the  land,  every  stone  of  the 
buildings.  If  there  were  improvements  on  the  land,  these 
improvements  were  specifically  mentioned  in  the  printed 
advertisements  that  were  issued  by  the  Land  Court,  and  they 
were  sold  to  the  purchaser  by  a  judge  who  was  appointed 
by  the  Government,  and  under  the  direct  sanction  of  the 
Imperial  Parliament.  If  the  property  was  let  on  very  easy 
terms  ;  if  the  leases  were  soon  to  expire  ;  if  there  was  a 
possibility  of  making  a  considerable  rise  of  rents,  these  facts 
were  constantly  put  forward  by  the  court  as  inducements  to 
the  purchaser,  and  they  entered  largely  into  the  price 
which  he  gave.  He  was  guaranteed  the  complete  and 
absolute  possession  of  the  land  and  buildings  on  the  termi- 
nation of  the  tenancies  in  the  schedule,  the  full  legal  right 
of  determining  the  existing  yearly  tenancies.  One  of  the 
special  advantages  attributed  to  the  Act  was,  that  it  was 
perfectly  clear  that  the  title  which  it  conferred  was  abso- 
lutely indisputable.  It  was  a  parliamentary  title,  the  high- 
est known  to  English  law ;  a  security  of  the  same  kind  and 
of  the  same  force  as  that  by  which  the  fundholder  or  other 
Government  creditor  is  guaranteed  the  interest  of  his  loan. 
Between    1849    and    1870   more  than  fifty-two  millions  of 


FIXITY   OF   TENURE  I  53 

pounds  had  been  invested  on  this  security  in  the  purchase 
of  Irish  land.  About  an  eighth  part  of  the  soil  of  Ireland  is 
said  to  be  held  under  this  parliamentary  title. 

Let  us  now  pass  for  a  moment  to  the  position  of  the 
existing  landlords  as  it  is  established  by  the  legislation  of 
Mr.  Gladstone.  In  the  first  place,  the  improvements  which 
had  been  purchased  under  the  Incumbered  Estates  Act 
have,  by  a  naked  act  of  confiscation,  and  without  the 
smallest  compensation,  been  taken  from  the  purchaser,  and 
are  now  the  property  of  the  tenant.  A  great  part  of  what 
the  State  had  sold  to  him,  and  what  the  State  had 
guaranteed  to  him,  is  no  longer  his ;  and  it  has  ceased  to 
be  his,  riot  by  an  act  of  honest  purchase,  but  by  an  act  of 
simple  power.  In  the  next  place,  his  clear  and  indisputable 
right  to  resume  possession  of  his  land  when  the  tenancies 
upon  it  had  expired  has  been  taken  from  him.  The  tenant 
who  was  in  possession  when  the  Land  Act  was  passed  has 
acquired  fixity  of  tenure.  Subject  to  the  periodical  revision 
of  rents  by  the  Land  Court,  and  the  fulfilment  of  certain 
easy  statutory  conditions,  he  cannot  be  removed  unless  the 
landlord  should  purchase  from  him,  by  permission  of  the 
Land  Court,  and  on  conditions  which  the  court  prescribes, 
that  right  of  resuming  possession  of  his  land  which  before  the 
new  Act  was  indisputably  his  own.  The  landlord  has  ceased 
to  be  the  owner.  He  has  become  merely  a  rent-charger. 
Again  and  again  in  the  debates  of  1870,  when  the  question 
of  fixity  of  tenure  was  raised,  the  leaders  of  the  Liberal 
party  acknowledged  the  very  obvious  truth  that  such  a 
provision  simply  amounted  to  the  transfer  of  the  ownership 
of  the  soil  from  the  landlord  to  the  tenant,  and  that  such  a 
transfer  could  only  be  honestly  effected  by  paying  for  it  in 
money.  '  By  such  a  provision,'  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  '  the 
landlord  will  become  a  pensioner  and  rent-charger  upon 
what  is  now  his  own  estate.  The  Legislature  has,  no 
doubt,  the  perfect  right  to  reduce  him  to  that  condition, 
giving  him  proper  compensation  for  any  loss  he  may  sustain 
in  money.'  '  Inasmuch  as  perpetuity  of  tenure  on  the  part 
of  the  occupier  is  virtually  expropriation  of  the  landlord,  and 


154  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

as  a  mere  readjustment  of  rent  according  to  the  price  of 
produce  can  by  no  means  dispose  of  all  contingencies  the 
future  may  produce  in  his  favour,  compensation  would  have 
to  be  paid  to  the  landlord  for  the  rights  of  which  he  would 
be  deprived.' '  '  I  shall  not  go  into  argument  on  that  subject,* 
said  Sir  Eoundell  Palmer  when  speaking  of  this  proposal, 
'  because  that  point  was  exhausted  by  the  Head  of  the 
Government  when  he  spoke  of  fixity  of  tenure,  which,  in 
plain  English,  means  taking  away  the  property  of  one  man 
and  giving  it  to  another.  My  right  honourable  friend  said 
that,  according  to  the  principles  of  justice,  if  we  transferred 
property  in  that  way  we  must  pay  for  it.  No  doubt  we 
may  take  a  man's  property,  but  in  that  case  we  must 
compensate  him  for  it.' 2 

These  principles  appear  to  me  perfectly  true,  and  indeed 
self-evident  ;  but  they  did  not  prevent  the  legislators  of  1881 
conferring  fixity  of  tenure  on  the  present  tenant  without  grant- 
ing compensation  to  the  landlord,  and  from  that  time  the  first 
principle  of  much  reasoning  in  Parliament  about  Irish  land  has 
been  that  it  is  a  dual  ownership  ;  that  the  landlord  is  nothing 
more  than  a  partner,  or,  as  it  is  now  the  fashion  to  say,  '  a 
sleeping  partner,'  in  a  joint  possession,  whose  interests  in 
every  question  of  dispute  should  be  systematically  subordi- 
nated to  those  of  the  other  partner.  And  this  phraseology 
represents  with  much  truth  the  position  which  the  holders 
of  land  under  parliamentary  or  other  title  in  Ireland  now 
hold. 

In  the  last  place,  the  Legislature  has  deprived  the  land- 
lord of  the  plainest  and  most  inseparable  rights  of  owner- 
ship— the  power  of  making  contracts,  offering  his  farms 
at  the  market  price  ;  selecting  his  tenants  ;  prescribing  the 
period  and  the  terms  for  which  he  will  let  his  land.  A  court 
is  established  with  an  absolute  power  of  deciding  the 
amount  of  rent  which  the  tenant  is  to  pay,  and  the  landlord 
has  no  option  of  refusing,  or  seeking  another  tenant.  It  is 
often    argued    that    the    reduction    enforced  by    the    Land 

1  Speech  of  Mr.  Gladstone  in  Proposing  the  Irish  Bill,  February  15,  1870 
(Murray).  *  Hansard,  cxix.  1(506. 


THE   REGULATION    OF   RENTS  1 55 

Courts  is,  on  an  average,  somewhat  less  than  that  which 
has  taken  place  in  England,  and  that  the  Irish  landlord 
has,  in  consequence,  no  reason  to  complain.  There  is,  how- 
ever, a  great  difference  between  a  country  which  is  mainly 
pasture  and  a  country  which  is  in  a  large  degree  wheat- 
growing  ;  between  a  country  where  farms  are  constantly 
thrown  into  the  hands  of  the  landlord,  as  no  tenant  will  take 
them,  and  a  country  where  the  average  price  of  tenant-right 
is  more  than  ten  years'  purchase  of  the  existing  rental.  There 
is  also  a  clear  difference  between  a  reduction  imposed  by 
an  act  of  mere  power,  and  a  reduction  which  is  the  result 
of  the  free  bargaining  of  two  contracting  parties. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  a  legislature,  in  confer- 
ring this  tremendous  power  upon  a  new  court,  would  take 
great  care  at  least  to  minimise  its  injustice  by  strictly  defining 
the  principles  on  which  it  was  to  act,  and  insisting  that  the 
reasons  for  its  decisions  should  be  clearly  and  fully  given. 
Mr.  Gladstone,  however,  with  great  skill,  succeeded  in  per- 
suading Parliament  to  abstain  from  giving  any  definition  or 
any  approximation  to  a  definition  of  a  fair  rent,  leaving  this 
matter  completely,  or  almost  completely,  to  the  arbitrary  and 
unregulated  action  of  the  court.  The  single  exception  was 
a  provision  that  no  rent  must  be  allowed  for  improvements 
made  either  by  the  tenant  or  by  his  predecessor  in  title. 
The  one  real  test  of  the  value  of  a  thing  is  what  men  are 
prepared  to  give  for  it,  and  this  market  test  was  absolutely 
excluded  from  the  valuation.  Another  possible  test  was  the 
long  continuance  of  the  existing  rent.  The  Bessborough 
Commission,  which  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Act  of  1881, 
proposed  '  that  a  rent  which  was  paid  at  any  time  within  the 
last  twenty  years,  and  which  continued  for  not  less  than  ten 
years  to  be  regularly  paid,'  should  be  always  assumed  to  be 
a  fair  rent,  unless  the  conditions  had  altered  to  the  detri- 
ment of  the  tenant.  Another  proposal  was,  that  rents 
should  be  deemed  fair,  and  should  be  exempted  from  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  court,  if  they  had  not  been  raised  during 
the  preceding  twenty  years.  In  spite  of  the  great  and 
almost  unparalleled  increase  of  prosperity  in  Ireland  during 


156  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

that  period,  it  appears  that  this  proposal  would  have  applied 
to  no  less  than  4,700,000  acres  of  Irish  soil.1 

Both  of  these  proposals,  however,  were  rejected.  Many 
rents  were  reduced  which  had  been  paid  without  a  murmur 
for  thirty  or  forty  years,  and  in  spite  of  clear  evidence  that 
the  chief  articles  of  Irish  agricultural  produce  had  during  that 
period  largely  risen,  and  that  the  opening  of  new  markets  and 
the  improvement  of  communications  had  materially  added  to 
the  value  of  the  farms.2  Many  rents  were  reduced  although 
it  was  shown  that,  within  the  last  few  years,  the  right  of 
occupying  the  farms  at  these  rents  had  been  purchased  by 
the  tenant  at  a  large  sum  under  the  Act  of  1870.3  The  de- 
cisions were  virtually  and  mainly  in  the  hands  of  the  sub- 
commissioners,  who  were  to  a  large  extent  young  barristers 
and  county  attorneys  ;  many  of  them  with  scarcely  any 
previous  knowledge  of  land,  or  of  the  conditions  of  agriculture 
in  the  province  in  which  they  were  adjudicating.  They  were 
sent  to  their  task — or,  as  one  of  the  ablest  of  them  expressed 
himself,  '  let  loose  upon  property ' — without  any  instruc- 
tions ;  '  and  they  usually  gave  their  decisions  without  as- 
signing any  reasons.  It  was  clearly  understood  that  their 
business  was  to  reduce,  and  not  to  regulate,  rents.  Their 
popularity  or  unpopularity  depended  on  the  amount  of  their 
reductions,  and  they  knew  that  the  wildest  expectations  were 
excited.  One  of  the  great  perplexities  of  the  lawyers  who 
practised  before  them  arose  from  the  extreme  difficulty  of 
discovering  the  principle  or  reasoning  on  which  they  acted. 
One  fact,  however,  which  was  clearly  shown  was,  that  the 
artificial  depreciation  of  land  arising  from  agrarian  agitation , 
and  outrage  entered  largely  into  their  estimate."'  It  would  be 
impossible  to  conceive  a  greater  encouragement  to  such  agita- 
tion ;  while  the  landlords  were  fined  by  the  Government  be- 
cause the  Government  had  failed  to  discharge  adequately  its 
elementary  duty  of  suppressing  anarchy  and  securing  property. 

1  See  the  speech  of  the  Eight  Hon.  E.  fjibson  on  the  second  reading,  April 
o,  1881. 

-  See  on  this  subject  the  striking  evidence  in  the  Third  Report  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  the  House  of  Lords  on  the  Land  Act,  1883,  p.  18 ;  see,  too,  p.  101. 

;i  Ibid.  pp.  17,  43.  '  Ibid.  pp.  104,  132.  5  Ibid.  p.  86. 


OPINION    OF    MILL 


157 


A  hasty  visit  to  the  farms  was  made,  and  rents  were  settled 
according  to  their  present  condition.  In  this  way,  in  a 
country  where  farming  was  already  deplorably  backward, 
slovenly  and  wasteful  farming  received  a  special  encourage- 
ment in  the  form  of  the  greatest  reduction  of  rents. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  such  decisions  carried  with  them 
little  moral  weight.  When  complaints  were  made,  the 
ministers  dilated  on  the  indecency  of  questioning  '  judicial 
decisions ;  '  as  if  such  arbitrary  proceedings  as  I  have 
described  bore  any  real  resemblance  to  the  judgments  of  a 
law  court,  where  a  judge  is  guided  at  every  step  by  the  clearly 
denned  provisions  of  the  law,  and  where  his  task  is  simply 
to  decide  or  explain  its  relations  to  the  facts  that  are  before 
him.  It  may  be  observed,  too,  that  while  competition  for 
rents  was  extinguished  by  the  law,  and  rentals  greatly 
reduced,  the  competition  for  tenant-right  was  practically 
unrestrained,  and  the  price  of  tenant-right  rapidly  rose.1 
There  could  be  no  better  proof  that  the  reductions  did  not 
represent  the  real  market  depreciation  of  value,  but  were  in 
a  large  degree  simply  the  transfer  of  property  from  one  class 
to  another. 

I  have  no  wish  to  put  forward  any  extreme  or  exaggerated 
view  of  the  sanctity  of  landed  property.  In  my  own  opinion, 
the  Legislature  has  a  perfect  right,  if  the  public  welfare 
requires  it,  to  take  possession  of  all  such  property,  and  to 
sell  or  hire  it  on  such  terms  as  it  pleases,  on  the  single 
condition  of  giving  full  compensation  to  the  owners.  The 
recommendation  of  Mill,  that  Irish  landlords  should  be 
altogether  expropriated,  receiving  full  compensation,  seems 
to  me  very  doubtful  in  point  of  policy,  but  in  no  degree 
objectionable  in  point  of  principle.  Mill  will  certainly  not 
be  suspected  of  an}-  undue  leaning  towards  landowners,  but 
his  doctrine  differs  little,  if  at  all,  from  that  which  I  am 
maintaining.  '  The  claim  of  the  landowners,'  he  writes,  'is 
altogether  subordinate  to  the  general  policy  of   the   State. 

1  For  full  statistics  on  this  subject,  see  the  Statements  of  the  Irish  Land- 
owners' Convention,  addressed  to  H.M.'s  Ministers,  February  .'J,  1888, p. 23,  and 
the  reply  to"  the  Report  of  the  Land  Acts  Committee  of  1894,  pp.  102   13. 


158  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

The  principle  of  property  gives  them  no  right  to  the  land, 
but  only  a  right  to  compensation  for  whatever  portion  of 
their  interest  in  the  land  it  may  be  the  policy  of  the  State  to 
deprive  them  of.  To  that  their  claim  is  indefeasible.  It  is 
due  to  landowners,  and  to  owners  of  any  property  whatever, 
recognised  as  such  by  the  State,  that  they  should  not  be 
dispossessed  of  it  without  receiving  its  full  pecuniary  value, 
or  an  annual  income  equal  to  what  they  derived  from  it.  .  .  . 
When  the  property  is  of  a  kind  to  which  peculiar  affections 
attach  themselves,  the  compensation  ought  to  exceed  a  bare 
pecuniary  equivalent.  .  .  .  The  Legislature,  which,  if  it  pleased, 
might  convert  the  whole  body  of  landlords  into  fundowners  or 
pensioners,  might,  a  fortiori,  commute  the  average  receipts 
of  Irish  landowners  into  a  fixed  rent-charge,  and  raise  the 
tenants  into  proprietors,  supposing  always  (without  which 
these  acts  would  be  nothing  better  than  robbery)  that  the 
full  market  value  of  the  land  was  tendered  to  the  landlords  in 
case  they  preferred  that  to  accepting  the  conditions  proposed.' ' 

I  should  myself  state  the  claims  of  the  landlord  in 
somewhat  different  terms.  As  much  land  in  these  islands  is 
held  in  trust,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  Government,  if  it 
deprives  the  landlord,  for  purposes  of  public  policy,  of  the 
whole  or  a  portion  of  his  property,  is  bound  in  equity  to  com- 
pensate him  by  such  a  sum  as  would  produce,  if  invested  in  a 
trust  fund,  an  income  equal  to  that  of  which  he  was  deprived. 

The  course  which  was  pursued  by  the  British  Legislature 
towards  Irish  land  was  different,  and  if  the  terms  '  honesty  ' 
and  '  dishonesty '  apply  to  the  acts  of  Parliaments  or  Govern- 
ments as  truly  as  to  individuals,  it  was  distinctly  and  grossly 
dishonest.  Under  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  the 
greater  part  of  this  legislation,  being  a  direct  violation  of 
contract,  would  have  been  beyond  the  competence  of  Congress. 
Nor  is  there,  I  believe,  anything  in  the  legislation  of  the 
'great  European  countries  that  is  parallel  to  it.  It  has  been 
described  by  one  of  the  best  continental  writers  upon  govern- 
ment as  an  attack  on  the  principle  of  property  more  radical 
than  any  measure  of  the  French  Revolution,  or  even  of  the 

1  Political  Economy,  Book  ii.  chap.  ii.  §  G. 


ANTICIPATIONS  OF   MINISTERS  I  59 

Keign  of  Terror.1  It  is,  indeed,  much  less  like  ordinary  legisla- 
tion than  like  extraordinary  legislation  of  the  nature  of  Acts 
of  attainder  or  confiscation.  There  is,  it  is  true,  one  material 
difference.  Acts  of  attainder  are  usually  passed  for  the 
purpose  of  confiscating  the  property  of  men  who  have  been 
guilty  of  treason  or  rebellion.  As  the  Parnell  Commission 
abundantly  showed,  the  true  crime  of  the  Irish  landlords  was 
their  loyalty.  It  was  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  ruining  and 
driving  from  the  country  '  the  English  garrison  '  that  the 
Fenian  party  organised  the  agrarian  agitation  that  led  to  the 
legislation  of  1881. 

The  Bill  was  defended  by  some  very  serious  statesmen 
on  the  ground  of  necessity.  A  gigantic  agrarian  conspiracy, 
including  the  bulk  of  the  Irish  peasantry,  the  great  transfer 
of  political  power  that  had  taken  place  in  Ireland  under 
English  legislation,  and  an  acute  and  protracted  agricultural 
crisis,  produced  by  bad  seasons  and  wretched  prices,  had,  they 
said,  brought  Ireland  into  a  state  in  which  some  such 
measure  was  inevitable.  It  must  be  added  that  its  character 
and  effects  were  much  misunderstood.  It  was  believed  that 
the  free  sale  clause,  which  enabled  a  tenant  who  was  in 
difficulties  to  sell  his  tenant-right  to  a  solvent  farmer,  and, 
after  paying  all  debts,  to  emigrate  or  set  up  business  with  a 
substantial  capital,  would  operate  to  the  great  advantage  of 
all  parties.  It  would,  it  was  thought,  give  the  broken  tenant 
a  new  start,  secure  the  rent  of  the  landlord,  put  an  end  to 
all  necessity  for  evictions,  and  at  the  same  time  attract 
farmers  of  energy  and  industry  ;  and  it  was  not  foreseen  how 
completely  it  could  be  paralysed  by  violence  and  intimidation. 

It  is  also  tolerably  certain  that  a  considerable  number, 
at  least,  of  the  most  important  ministers  never  anticipated 

1  '  Les  lois  agraires  que  M.  Gladstone  a  fait  voter  pour  l'lrlande  et  que  l'on 
trouve  deja  insuthsantes  portent  au  principe  de  la  propriety  et  du  libre  contrat 
une  atteinte  plus  radicale  que  ne  l'ont  fait  la  revolution  francaise  et  meme 
la  Terreur.  ...  A  moins  de  confiscation  on  ne  peut  guere  aller  plus  loin  ' 
(Laveleye,  Le  Gouvernement  et  la  Democratic,  i.  31-32).  M.  Leon  Say  cites 
recent  Irish  agrarian  legislation  as  the  most  striking  modern  instance  of  State 
Socialism  (Socialismc  iVEtat,  p.  7).  See,  too,  the  remarks  of  M.  Stocquart,  Rcvvc 
de  Droit  International,  xxvii.  145. 


160  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

that  the  provisions  for  settling  rents  by  the  authority 
of  the  court  would  be  applied  to  the  bulk  of  Irish 
tenancies,  or  made  use  of  to  create  a  new  level  of  rental.  It 
would,  they  believed,  simply  reduce  to  the  general  average 
those  exceptional  and  extortionate  rents  which,  in  every 
county,  undoubtedly  existed.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the 
assurances  to  this  effect  given  by  the  ministers,  it  is  very 
improbable  that  the  Bill  would  have  passed.  '  My  view,' 
said  Mr.  Bright,  '  is,  that  in  reality  the  rents  in  Ireland 
will  for  the  most  part,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  be  fixed  very 
much  as  they  are  now.'  '  '  The  Government,'  said  the 
Attorney-General  for  Ireland,  'did  not  admit  that  there 
would  be  any  loss  to  the  landlord,  except  the  loss  of  a  power 
which  he  ought  not  to  exercise.'  -  '  I  deny,'  said  the  English 
Chancellor,  '  that  it  [the  Bill]  will,  in  any  degree  whatever, 
diminish  the  rights  of  the  landlord,  or  the  value  of  the 
interest  he  possesses.'  3  '  I  think,'  said  Mr.  Forster,  '  the 
final  result  of  the  measure  within  a  few  years  will  be,  that 
the  landowners  of  Ireland,  small  and  large,  will  be  better  off 
than  they  are  at  this  moment.'  '  It  was  believed  that  rents 
would  be  often  raised  as  well  as  often  lowered,  that  th 
tenants  who  were  moderately  rented  would,  in  consequence, 
abstain  from  going  into  the  court,  and  that  the  Act  would 
in  practice  apply  only  to  a  small  number  of  over-rented 
tenancies.  Lord  Carlingford,  who  spoke  with  especial 
authority  on  all  Irish  questions,  and  who  took  the  chief  part 
in  carrying  the  measure  through  the  House  of  Lords,  was 
very  explicit.  '  My  lords,'  he  said,  '  I  maintain  that  the  pro- 
visions of  this  Bill  will  cause  the  landlords  no  money  loss 
whatever.  I  believe  that  it  will  inflict  upon  them  no  loss  of 
income,  except  in  those  cases  in  which  a  certain  number 
of  landlords  may  have  imposed  upon  their  tenants  excessive 
and  inequitable  rents,  which  they  are  probably  vainly  trying 
to  recover.'  s 

I  am  far  from  presuming  to  fathom  the  true  meaning  or 
design  of  the  statesman  who  is  chiefly  responsible  for  this 

1  Hansard,  cclxi.  103.  '-'  Ibid,  cclxi.  1379.  3  Ibid,  cclxiv.  532. 

1  Ibid,  cclxiii.  1685.  s  Ibid,  cclxiv.  252. 


POLICY   OF   MR.   GLADSTONE  l6l 

legislation.  In  introducing  the  Bill  of  1870,  with  its  dan- 
gerous principle  of  compensation  for  disturbance,  Mr.  Glad- 
stone had  specially  and  repeatedly  maintained  that  he  was 
conferring  a  benefit  upon  the  owners  as  well  as  the  occupiers 
of  the  soil.  He  deplored  the  fact  that  the  selling  value  of 
Irish  land  was  much  lower  than  that  of  British  land,  and 
predicted  that  the  effects  of  his  legislation  would  make  it  '  not 
merely  worth  twenty  or  twenty-five  years'  purchase,  but 
would  raise  it  altogether,  or  very  nearly,  to  the  value  of 
English  or  Scotch  land.' l  In  1881  he  used  similar  lan- 
guage. When  introducing  a  measure  establishing  fixity  of 
tenure  he  was  confronted  with  his  own  very  plain  words  in 
1870,  which  I  have  already  quoted,  about  the  confiscatory 
character  of  such  a  measure  ;  but  it  was  not  difficult  for  so 
supreme  a  master  of  the  art  of  evasion  to  extricate  himself 
from  his  difficulty.  He  skilfully  met  the  demands  for  com- 
pensation for  property  and  legal  rights  that  were  clearly  taken 
away  by  alleging  that  he  was  not  injuring,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, benefiting  the  landowner.  In  many  cases,  he  said,  the 
probable  effect  of  the  Bill  would  be  to  raise  rents ;  and  although 
he  would  not  say  '  whether  the  action  of  the  court  in  fixing 
a  judicial  rent  may  not,  on  the  whole,  lower  the  rents  rather 
than  raise  them  in  the  first  operation,'  he  was  convinced 
that  the  increased  value  of  land  derived  from  the  greater 
solidity  of  the  social  state  which  he  was  bringing  about 
would  speedily  '  repay  the  landlord  for  any  incidental  mischief 
of  the  Act  twofold  or  threefold.'  2  As  was  his  usual  custom 
on  such  occasions,  he  pitched  his  tone  very  high,  and  appealed 
in  noble  language  to  the  loftiest  motives.  '  Justice,  sir,  is  to 
be  our  guide ;  and  as  it  has  been  said  that  love  is  stronger 
than  death,  even  so  justice  is  stronger  than  popular  excite- 
ment, stronger  than  the  passions  of  the  moment,  stronger 
even  than  the  grudges,  the  resentments,  and  the  sad  tradi- 
tions of  the  past.  Walking  in  that  light,  we  cannot  err. 
Guided  by  that  light— the  Divine  Light — we  are  safe.' 

1  Hansard,  cc.  1263. 

'-'  Ibid,  cclxiii.  1696-1697.  See  on  this  subject  an  excellent  pamphlet, 
called  Tlic  Working  of  the  Jjand  Law,  February  1882,  published  by  the  Irish 
Land  Committee. 

VOL.    I.  M 


1 62  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Probably  no  one  who  was  present  when,  with  uplifted 
eyes,  and  saintly  aspect,  and  exquisitely  modulated  intonation, 
the  great  speaker  poured  out  these  sonorous  sentences,  pre- 
dicted that  in  a  few  short  years  he  would  identify  himself 
with  the  men  whom  he  had  truly  described  as  preaching 
1  the  doctrine  of  public  plunder  ;  '  demoralising  a  people  by 
'  teaching  them  to  make  the  property  of  their  neighbour  the 
objects  of  their  covetous  desire ; '  attempting  to  substitute 
'  an  anarchical  oppression  '  for  the  authority  of  law ; 
making  rapine  their  first  object ;  seeking  '  to  march  through 
rapine  to  the  dismemberment  of  the  Empire  ; '  destroying 
the  peace  of  life  ;  aiming  at  '  the  servitude  of  good  men,  the 
impunity  and  supremacy  of  bad  men.'  Few  persons  could 
have  imagined  that  this  virtuous  statesman  would  soon  be 
endeavouring  to  place  the  government  of  Ireland  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  were  guilty  of  such  things  ;  that  he 
would  be  employing  all  the  resources  of  his  matchless 
dialectic  to  attenuate  their  misdeeds  ;  that  he  would  de- 
nounce as  coercion  measures  for  the  enforcement  of  the 
criminal  law  against  the  most  merciless  of  oppressions, 
which  were  largely  copied  from  his  own  legislation ;  that  he 
would  spend  the  evening  of  his  long  and  brilliant  public  life 
in  inflaming  class  animosities  and  reviving  the  almost  ex- 
tinct embers  of  provincial  jealousies.  It  is  perhaps  some- 
what less  surprising  that  the  Irish  landlords  continued  to  be 
attacked  just  as  if  the  Acts  of  1870  and  1881  had  never  been 
carried,  and  as  if  capricious  evictions  and  rack-rents  had 
not  been  rendered  impossible. 

The  Act  was,  indeed,  as  far  as  possible  from  appeasing 
Ireland.  Probably  the  worst  period  of  the  land  agitation 
followed  its  enactment,  and  hopes  of  plunder  were  excited 
to  the  utmost,  while  falling  prices  and  ever-deepening  agri- 
cultural distress  vastly  aggravated  the  crisis.  The  stability 
which  was  supposed  to  have  been  given  by  the  Act  of  1881 
had  been  represented  as  one  of  its  great  merits  ;  but  every 
year  the  cry  for  revising  it  acquired  fresh  force,  and  after 
the  utter  political  demoralisation  that  followed  the  apostasy 
of  1886,  when   the  main  section  of  the  Liberal  party  pur- 


LAND   ACT,   1887  1 63 

chased  the  votes  by  adopting  the  policy  of  the  National 
League,  this  cry  became  probably  irresistible.  Some  of 
those  who  had  consented  to  the  Act  of  1881  now  looked 
with  consternation  at  their  work.  '  I  would  rather  have 
cut  off  my  hand,'  said  Lord  Selborne,  'than  been  a  party 
to  the  measure  of  1881,  giving  the  House  the  reasons  and 
assurances  which  I  then  gave,  if  I  had  known  that  within 
five  years  after  its  passing  it  would  have  been  thrown  over 
by  its  authors,  and  that  the  course  they  had  now  taken 
would  have  been  entered  on.'  ' 

The  Land  Act  of  1887,  however,  which  reopened  the  set- 
tlement, was  carried  by  a  Unionist  Government,  and  it  again 
lowered  rents  which  only  four  or  five  years  before  had  been 
judicially  fixed.  It  was  said  that  the  State,  having  undertaken 
to  regulate  rents,  could  not  remain  passive  when  prices  had  so 
greatly  fallen,  and  that  the  political  condition  of  the  country 
imperatively  demanded  its  intervention.  It  is  true  that, 
under  the  Act  of  1881,  the  State,  while  reducing  the  rents 
of  the  Irish  landlords,  had  guaranteed  those  reduced  rents 
for  fifteen  years.2  It  was  a  distinct,  formal  promise,  resting 
on  the  national  faith  and  on  the  authority  of  the  Imperial 
Parliament.  The  promise  was  broken,  but  it  was  asked 
whether  this  was  in  truth  a  very  different  thing  from  what 
had  already  been  done  in  1881,  when  parliamentary  and 
hereditary  titles  had  been  torn  into  shreds.  The  existing 
leaseholders  were  at  the  same  time  brought,  for  the  first  time, 
within  the  provisions  of  the  clause  for  reducing  rents.  Mr. 
Gladstone  had  refused  to  do  this  in  1881 ;  but  it  was  said 
that  it  was  intolerable  that  the  flower  of  the  Irish  tenantry 
should  alone  be  excluded  from  benefits  which  all  other 
tenants  so  abundantly  enjoyed,  and  that  there  was  little 
chance  of  conciliating  the  Irish  farmers  if  their  leading 
and  most  intelligent  members  were  left  embittered  by  an 
exceptional  disability. 

The  force  of   this   argument    is   incontestable,  but    the 

1  Hansard,  cccxix.  18. 

-  'An  alteration  of  judicial  rent  shall  not  take  place  at  less  intervals  than 
fifteen  years  '  (Sect,  viii.) 


164  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

gravity  of  the  step  that  was  taken  is  not  less  so.  One  great 
object,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the  Act  of  1870  had  been  to  in- 
duce landlords  to  grant  leases  by  giving  them  an  assurance 
that  they  would  in  this  way  place  themselves  beyond 
the  many  entanglements  and  penal  clauses  of  the  new 
legislation.  No  one  could  pretend  either  that  the  Irish 
leaseholders  were  a  helpless  class,  incapable  of  making  their 
own  bargains,  or  that  their  position  rested  on  any  other 
foundation  than  a  distinct  written  contract.  They  were  the 
most  substantial  and  intelligent  farmers  of  Ireland.  The 
lease  which  regulated  their  tenancies  was  a  fully  recognised 
legal  document,  bearing  the  Government  stamp,  carrying 
with  it  all  the  authority  and  protection  that  English  law 
could  give.  Its  first  clause  was,  usually,  that  at  the  expiry 
of  the  assigned  term  the  tenant  should  hand  back  the  land 
to  its  owner.  This  provision  had  been  already  torn  to  pieces 
by  the  Act  of  1881,  which  provided  that  in  cases  of  all  leases 
of  less  than  sixty  years  the  tenant,  at  the  expiry  of  the 
lease,  if  resident  on  his  farm,  need  not  hand  it  back 
according  to  his  contract,  but  should  remain  a  '  present 
tenant,'  with  all  the  rights  of  permanent  occupancy  attach- 
ing to  that  position.1  The  next  clause  stipulated  in  very 
explicit  terms  the  rent  in  consideration  of  which  the  land- 
lord had,  in  the  exercise  of  his  full  legal  rights,  hired  out 
his  farm.  This  also  was  broken,  and  the  leaseholder  had 
now  the  right  of  bringing  his  landlord  into  a  court  where, 
as  the  result  of  proceedings  which  always  brought  with 
them  heavy  legal  costs  to  the  landlord,  the  rent  was 
authoritatively  and  judicially  reduced. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  State  did  not  in  this  matter 
annul  or  dissolve  a  legal  contract,  leaving  the  two  parties 
free  to  make  fresh  arrangements.  It  left  one  party  wholly 
bound  by  the  terms  of  the  contract ;  it  contented  itself  with 
releasing  the  other ;  and,  it  need  scarcely  be  added,  it  did 

1  There  was  an  exception  in  case  of  bond-fide  reversionary  leases  made 
before  the  law  had  passed  ;  e.g.,  if  the  landlord  had  already  granted  to  C.  D. 
the  lease  of  a  farm  on  the  expiry  of  the  lease  of  A.  B.,  in  whose  hands  it  now 
was,  this  arrangement  was  suffered  to  stand.  See  Kisbey  On  the  Land  Act  of 
1881,  pp. 64-65. 


CLAIMS   FOR   COMPENSATION  ,165 

this  without  granting  the  smallest  compensation  to  the 
defrauded  partner.  There  were  other  provisions,  into  which 
I  need  not  enter,  diminishing  the  few  remaining  powers  of 
the  landlord  of  recovering  rent,  and  somewhat  improving  the 
position  of  the  ordinary  tenant.  The  Act  was  described  by 
a  leading  Unionist  statesman  as  '  the  most  generous  boon  ' 
ever  conferred  by  the  Imperial  Parliament  on  the  Irish 
tenant.  This  '  generosity  '  which  impels  legislators,  without 
the  smallest  sacrifice  to  themselves,  to  seek  to  conciliate  one 
class  by  handing  over  to  them  the  property  of  another  is 
likely  to  be  a  growing  virtue  in  English  politics. 

We  can  hardly,  indeed,  have  a  better  example  of  the 
manner  in  which  a  subversive  principle,  once  admitted  into 
politics,  will  grow  and  strengthen  till  it  acquires  an  irre- 
sistible power.  When  the  principle  of  compensation  for 
disturbance  was  introduced  into  the  measure  of  1870,  it  was 
carefully  explained  that  this  was  not  intended  to  invalidate  in 
any  degree  the  indisputable  title  of  the  landlord  to  the  sole 
ownership  of  his  property  ;  that  it  was  intended  to  be  strictly 
limited  in  its  application  ;  that  it  was  essentially  a  measure 
for  the  maintenance  of  public  order  ;  that  its  only  object 
was  to  make  a  few  bad  landlords  do  what  all  good  landlords 
were  already  doing  ;  that  it  was  certain  to  be  as  beneficial 
to  the  landlord  as  to  the  tenant  class.  Probably,  few  persons 
clearly  foresaw  that  it  was  the  first  step  of  a  vast  transfer  of 
property,  and  that  in  a  few  years  it  would  become  customary 
for  ministers  of  the  Crown  to  base  all  their  legislation  on  the 
doctrine  that  Irish  land  was  not  an  undivided  ownership,  but 
a  simple  partnership. 

As  might  be  expected,  the  Irish  landlords  claimed  com- 
pensation for  property  that  was  manifestly  confiscated,  for 
vested  and  reversionary  interests  and  clearly  recognised 
legal  rights  which,  for  reasons  of  public  policy,  had  been 
taken  away.  In  an  eminently  moderate  and  closely  reasoned 
statement  they  showed  how  invariably  and  rigorously  the 
Imperial  Parliament,  following  the  general  custom  of  civilised 
communities,  had  itself  recognised  this  right,  and  imposed 
the  obligation  of   compensation   on   all   public   bodies,  com- 


1 66  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

parties,  and  individuals  to  whom  it  had  granted  a  compulsory 
power  of  acquiring  or  interfering  with  property  or  vested 
interests.  They  suggested  especially  two  forms  of  com- 
pensation. One  of  them  was  the  reduction  of  the  tithe  rent- 
charge  which  was  paid  to  the  Government  by  the  landlord. 
They  strengthened  their  case  by  reminding  the  ministers 
that  before  1872  the  tithe  rent-charge  could  be  revised  every 
seven  years,  according  to  the  price  of  corn,  which  was  then 
much  higher  than  at  the  time  they  wrote  ;  that  before  1838 
the  tithe  was  paid  by  the  occupier,  and  not  by  the  owner, 
and  that  the  duty  of  paying  it,  or,  as  it  was  then  said, 
collecting  it,  was  transferred  in  that  year  to  the  landlord,  on 
the  understanding  that  he  could  recoup  himself  in  the  rent. 
This  rent  was  now  arbitrarily  reduced,  and  the  landlord  had 
lost  all  power  over  it. 

The  other  suggestion  was,  that  Government  might  lend 
money  at  low  interest  to  pay  off  the  heavy  charges  which 
rested  on  Irish  land,  and  which  had  been  incurred  on  the 
faith  of  legal  rights  that  were  now  destroyed.  Great  sums 
had  been  already  advanced  in  Ireland  for  public  purposes  on 
such  terms,  and  it  was  noticed  that  this  policy  had  very 
recently  been  adopted  in  Russia  to  relieve  the  embar- 
rassments of  the  Russian  landlords.  As  the  normal  rate  of 
interest  on  charges  on  Irish  property  was  little,  if  at  all, 
below  5  per  cent.,  and  as,  with  Imperial  credit,  State  loans 
might  be  granted  at  an  annuity  not  exceeding  3|  per  cent., 
repaying  capital  and  interest  in  about  sixty-five  and  a  half 
years,  this  measure  would  have  very  materially  lightened 
the  burden,  and  probably  saved  many  landlords  and  many 
creditors  from  ruin.1 

Such  proposals,  however,  never  had  the  least  chance  of 
being  accepted.  It  was  certain  that  the  Liberal  party, 
which  now  depended  on  the  National  League,  would  be 
steadily  opposed  to  them,  and  it  was  quite  powerful  enough 
to  prevent  them.  There  was,  indeed,  a  melancholy  unreality 
about   all   such   discussions.     The   two   parties    moved    on 

1  Statement  submitted  on  the  part  of  the  Irish  Landowners'  Convention  to 
Her  Majesty's  ministers,  February  3,  1888. 


EFFECTS   OF   THE   LAND   LAWS  167 

different  planes.  Arguments  of  justice,  precedents,  clear 
statements  by  Liberal  leaders,  were  put  forward  by  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Irish  landlords,  but  every  politician  knew 
in  his  heart  that  the  real  question  was  one  of  votes  and 
power,  and  political  power  had  passed  away  from  the  Irish 
landlords. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  this  story  any  further,  and  to 
describe  the  almost  annual  attempts  that  have  been  made  to 
grant,  through  political  pressure,  to  the  occupying  class  in 
Ireland  a  larger  share  of  the  property  of  the  nominal  owners. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  this  legislation  has  redressed  some 
hard  cases  and  benefited  a  large  number  of  tenants  ;  and  as 
few  men  look  beyond  immediate  consequences,  or  rightly 
estimate  those  which  are  indirect  and  remote,  this  fact  is 
accepted  by  many  as  its  justification.  For  my  own  part,  I 
believe  that  it  will  one  day  be  found  that  the  evils  resulting 
from  this  policy  have  greatly  outweighed  its  benefits,  and 
that  they  will  fall  far  more  heavily  on  another  class  than  on 
the  small  class  which  was  directly  injured.  In  a  poor  coun- 
try, where  increased  capital,  improved  credit,  and  secure 
industry  are  the  greatest  needs,  it  has  shaken  to  the  very 
basis  the  idea  of  the  sanctity  and  obligation  of  contract ; 
made  it  almost  impossible  to  borrow  any  considerable  sum 
on  Irish  land  ;  effectually  stopped  the  influx  of  English  gold  ; 
paralysed  or  prevented  nearly  all  industrial  undertakings, 
stretching  into  a  distant  future.  It  has  reacted  powerfully 
upon  trade,  and  thus  contributed  to  impoverish  the  Irish 
towns,  while  it  has  withdrawn  the  whole  rental  of  Ireland 
from  the  improvement  of  the  soil,  as  the  landlord  can  have 
no  further  inducement  or  obligation  to  spend  money  on  his 
estate.  In  combination  also  with  the  Home  Rule  move- 
ment it  has  driven  much  capital  out  of  the  land.  Probably 
only  a  small  portion  of  the  money  which  is  now  received  for 
the  sale  of  land  under  the  Government  Acts  is  invested  in 
Ireland.  Prudent  men  have  learned  the  wisdom  of  placing 
their  savings,  and  at  least  a  portion  of  their  realised  property, 
outside  a  country  where  the  dominant  political  influences 
are  on    the  side   of  dishonesty  ;  where  the   repudiation    of 


1 68  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

debts  and  the  intimidation  of  creditors  have  become  leading 
features  of  popular  politics  ;  where  the  protection  of  property 
and  the  administration  of  justice  may  one  day  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  authors  of  the  '  No  Bent  Manifesto  '  and  of  the 
Plan  of  Campaign. 

Under  such  conditions,  the  difficulty  of  establishing 
any  system  of  safe  and  honest  self-government  has  been 
immensely  aggravated.  Ireland  must  indeed  be  greatly 
changed  if  the  withdrawal  from  her  country  districts  of 
the  presence  and  influence  of  her  most  educated  class 
proves  a  real  benefit  ;  if  local  institutions  are  more  wisety 
and  honestly  administered  by  passing  from  the  hands  of 
country  gentlemen  into  the  hands  of  the  professional  politi- 
cian ;  if  the  labourer  and  smaller  tenant  find  it  to  their 
advantage  to  be  more  directly  under  the  power  of  farmers, 
gombeen  men,  and  local  attorneys.  Fair  rents  and  free  sale, 
as  has  been  often  observed,  are  mutually  destructive,  and 
after  a  few  sales  the  burden  of  interest  paid  to  the  money- 
lender will  be  far  heavier  than  the  rent  which  was  taken 
from  the  landlord  ;  while  the  conflict  between  the  farmer  and 
the  labourer  is  likely  to  reproduce  in  an  aggravated  form  the 
conflict  between  the  landlord  and  the  farmer. 

Three  things,  indeed,  may  be  confidently  asserted  about 
Irish  rents.  The  first  is,  that  it  has  never  been  the  custom 
of  the  great  body  of  Irish  landlords  to  exact  the  full  com- 
petitive rents  from  their  tenants,  although  a  considerable 
minority  have  done  so.  The  second  is,  that  it  has  been 
the  invariable  practice  of  Irish  tenants,  in  selling  to  one 
another  their  tenant-right  and  in  subletting  plots  of  ground 
to  their  labourers,  to  demand  the  full  competitive  price.  The 
third  is,  that  in  order  to  make  the  system  of  what  is  practi- 
cally rack-rent  general,  no  better  way  could  be  devised  than 
the  recent  land  legislation.  If  you  give  the  tenant  fixity  of 
tenure  at  a  judicially  fixed  rent  which  is  considerably  below 
the  market  price,  and  at  the  same  time  give  him  a  practically 
unlimited  power  of  selling  his  tenancy  with  no  restriction  of 
price,  the  result  must  be  two  rents — one  paid  to  the  landlord, 
the  other  paid  to  the  money-lender  in  the  shape  of  interest 


EFFECTS   OF   THE   LAND   LAWS  1 69 

on  the  money  borrowed  to  purchase  the  tenant-right.  And 
these  two  combined  will  represent  the  extreme  value  of  the 
land. 

The  moral  effects  on  the  Irish  people  of  the  land  legisla- 
tion and  of  the  agitation  that  produced  it  have  been  still 
more  pernicious.  If  we  ask  what  are  the  chief  services  that 
a  Government  can  render  to  national  morals,  we  shall  pro- 
bably obtain  different  answers.  Some  men  will  place  the 
greatest  stress  on  the  establishment  by  the  State  of  the 
religion  which  they  believe  to  be  true  ;  on  the  infusion  into 
national  education  of  a  large  measure  of  religious  teaching  ; 
on  laws  restraining  private  vices  or  controlling  trades,  insti- 
tutions, or  amusements  that  may  produce  them.  On  all 
these  points  there  may  be  much  controversy  about  the  true 
province  of  the  State,  and  there  is  probably  much  exaggera- 
tion about  the  good  that  it  can  do.  To  me,  at  least,  the  first 
and  greatest  service  a  Government  can  render  to  morals 
seems  to  be  the  maintenance  of  a  social  organisation  in 
which  the  path  of  duty  and  the  path  of  interest  as  much  as 
possible  coincide  ;  in  which  honesty,  industry,  providence, 
and  public  spirit  naturally  reap  their  rewards,  and  the  oppo- 
site vices  their  punishment.  No  worse  lesson  can  be  taught 
a  nation  than  that  violence,  intimidation,  conspiracy,  and 
systematic  refusal  to  pay  debts  are  the  natural  means  of 
rising  to  political  power  and  obtaining  legislative  conces- 
sions. No  worse  habit  can  be  implanted  in  a  nation  than 
that  of  looking  for  prosperity  to  politics  rather  than  to 
industry,  and  forming  contracts  and  incurring  debts  with  the 
belief  that  a  turn  of  the  political  wheel  may  make  it  possible 
to  cancel  them. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  curious  and  melancholy  study  to  trace  the 
effects  of  recent  legislation  on  different  classes  in  Ireland. 
The  landlords  who  have  suffered  least  have  probably  been 
those  who  simplified  their  properties  by  the  wholesale  evic- 
tions, the  harsh  clearances,  that  too  often  followed  the 
Famine.  Next  in  the  scale  came  those  who  exacted  extreme 
rack-rents  from  their  tenants.  Those  rents  had  been  re- 
ceived for   many  years,  and   though    they  were  ultimately 


170  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

more  reduced  than  rents  which  had  always  been  low,  they 
still,  in  innumerable  cases,  remained  somewhat  higher  than 
the  others.  The  large  class  who  regarded  land  simply  as  a 
source  of  revenue,  and,  without  doing  anything  harsh,  or 
extortionate,  or  unjust,  took  no  part  or  interest  in  its 
management,  have  suffered  very  moderately.  It  is  the  im- 
proving landlord,  who  took  a  real  interest  in  his  estate,  who 
sank  large  sums  in  draining  and  other  purposes  of  improve- 
ment, who  exercised  a  constant  and  beneficent  influence 
over  his  tenants,  who  has  suffered  most  by  the  legislation 
that  reduced  him  to  a  mere  powerless  rent-charger,  and  in 
most  cases  rendered  the  sums  he  had  expended  an  absolute 
loss.  As  I  have  already  noticed,  the  careless  and  slovenly 
farmer  had  his  rent  more  reduced  than  the  farmer  who,  by 
good  cultivation,  had  maintained  his  farm  at  its  full  value. 
An  Arrears  Act  was  carried  conferring  great  benefits  on  the 
farmer  who  had  allowed  his  rent  to  fall  many  years  into 
arrear,  but  doing  nothing  for  the  farmer  who,  by  steady, 
conscientious  industry,  had  in  bad  times  honestly  paid  his 
way.  Even  the  land  purchase  Acts,  though  they  are  by  far 
the  most  valuable  parts  of  recent  Irish  land  legislation,  had 
a  similar  tendency.  As  the  tenant  is  no  longer  asked  to 
advance  any  portion  of  the  purchase  money,  no  premium  is 
given  to  industry  and  thrift ;  the  value  of  the  purchased  land 
has  been  artificially  depreciated  by  agitation  and  attacks 
upon  property ;  and  as  the  landlord  whose  income  has 
already  been  twice  reduced  by  a  land  court  knows  that  in 
most  cases,  in  addition  to  heavy  legal  expenses,  a  sale  will 
reduce  each  remaining  100Z.  a  year  to  60Z.  or  101.,  he  is,  not 
unnaturally,  unwilling  to  sell  when  his  tenants  are  honest 
and  solvent,  though  he  may  be  ready  to  do  so  on  easy  terms 
when  they  are  dishonest,  troublesome,  and  unpunctual. 

To  crown  the  edifice,  a  measure  was  introduced  by  the 
Government,  in  1894,  for  the  purpose  of  reinstating,  at  the 
cost  of  250,000Z.  of  public  money  drawn  from  the  funds  of 
the  Irish  Church,  those  tenants  who,  in  spite  of  judicial 
reductions  and  all  the  delays  and  indulgences  of  the  law, 
had  been  either  unable  or  unwilling  to  pay  their  rents,  and 


EVICTED   TENANTS  171 

had  been  in  consequence  evicted.  By  this  measure  it  was 
proposed  to  invest  three  men  nominated  by  the  Government, 
and  uncontrolled  by  any  right  of  appeal,  with  an  arbitrary 
and  almost  absolute  power  of  reinstating  any  Irish  tenant, 
or  the  representative  of  any  Irish  tenant,  who  had  been 
evicted  for  any  cause  since  1879.  The  only  restriction  was 
that  the  consent  of  the  present  tenant  must  be  obtained  ; 
but  in  a  great  part  of  Ireland  he  could  not  withhold  it  with- 
out imminent  danger  to  his  life.  The  tenant  might  have 
been  evicted  for  dishonesty,  for  violence,  for  criminal  con- 
spiracy, for  hopeless  and  long-continued  bankruptcy.  He 
might  be  living  in  America.  The  owner  of  the  soil  might 
have  delayed  the  eviction  for  years  after  the  law  had  em- 
powered him  to  carry  it  out,  and  he  might  have  at  last  taken 
the  land  into  his  own  possession,  and  have  been,  during  many 
years,  farming  it  himself.  He  had  no  right  of  refusing  his 
consent,  and  his  only  alternative  was  to  take  back  the  former 
tenant,  or  to  sell  to  him  the  farm  at  whatever  price  a  revo- 
lutionary and  despotic  tribunal  might  determine. 

The  explanation  of  the  measure  was  very  plain.  It  was 
specially  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  '  Plan-of -campaign  ' 
tenants,  who  had  placed  money  which  was  actually  in  their 
possession,  and  which  was  due  to  their  landlords  for  bene- 
fits already  received,  in  the  hands  of  'trustees,'  for  the 
express  purpose  of  defrauding  their  creditors.  This  '  Plan 
of  Campaign '  had  been  authoritatively  pronounced  by  the 
highest  law  court  in  Ireland  to  be  '  clearly  and  absolutely 
illegal.'  It  had  been  condemned  by  the  head  of  the  Catholic 
Church  as  distinctly  immoral.  It  had  been  avowedly  '  a 
political  engine,'  devised  by  political  conspirators  for  the 
purpose  of  defeating  the  Government,  proving  that  the 
Land  League  was  stronger  than  the  law,  and  persuading 
the  peasantry  that  its  directors  were  the  real  rulers  of 
Ireland.  The  instigators  of  this  conspiracy  were  now  in 
Parliament.  The  Government  depended  for  their  majority 
upon  their  votes,  and  their  terms  were  that  the  Plan-of- 
campaign  conspiracy  should  be  triumphantly  vindicated. 
The  proposed  measure  was  not  a  mere  measure  of  amnesty 


172  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

closing  an  old  controversy,  granting  indulgence  to  poor  men 
who  had  been  duped  by  men  far  more  dishonest  than  them- 
selves. It  was  a  measure  of  triumph,  giving  special  and 
exceptional  favour  to  defaulting  tenants.  No  solvent  tenant 
could  become  the  owner  of  his  farm  without  the  consent 
of  his  landlord.  This  privilege  was  reserved  for  the  evicted 
tenant. 

In  the  light  of  this  clause  and  of  the  persistence  with 
which  it  was  maintained,  no  reasonable  man  could  doubt  the 
character,  the  origin,  and  the  motive  of  the  measure.  The 
Government  bought  the  Irish  vote  by  a  Bill  to  carry  out 
their  design,  and  it  resolved  to  devote  a  large  amount  of 
public  money  to  the  purpose.  It  is  true  that  this  scan- 
dalous instance  of  political  profligacy  was  defeated  by  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  that  in  the  Land  Bill  of  the  succeed- 
ing year  the  compulsory  clause  was  dropped  ;  but  the  fact 
that  a  British  minister  could  be  found  to  introduce,  and  a 
party  majority  to  vote  it,  is  not  likely  to  be  forgotten  in 
Ireland.  Never,  indeed,  did  a  minister  of  the  Crown  pro- 
pose a  measure  more  distinctly  calculated  to  encourage  dis- 
honesty, and  to  persuade  a  deluded  people  that  a  sufficient 
amount  of  voting  power  was  all  that  was  needed  to  make 
it  successful.  It  has  been  truly  said,  that  the  worst  feature 
of  the  old  penal  code  against  Irish  Catholics  was  that  some 
of  its  provisions  placed  law  in  direct  opposition  to  religion 
and  to  morals,  and  thus  tended  powerfully  to  demoralise  as 
well  as  to  impoverish.  A  system  of  government  has,  in 
our  day,  grown  up  in  Ireland  not  less  really  and  scarcely 
less  widely  demoralising.  Those  who  have  examined  its 
effects  will  only  wonder  that  so  much  honesty  and  virtue 
have  survived  it. 

It  has  been  well  said  by  Senior,  that '  the  most  revolting, 
and  perhaps  the  most  mischievous,  form  of  robbery  is  that 
in  which  the  Government  itself  becomes  an  accomplice  ; 
when  the  property  of  whole  classes  of  individuals  is  swept 
away  by  legislative  enactments,  and  men  owe  their  ruin  to 
that  very   institution  which   was    created    to  ensure    their 


A  DANGEROUS   PRECEDENT  I  73 

safety.'  '  Probably  the  most  serious  aspect,  however,  of  this 
Irish  legislation  is  to  be  found  in  the  precedents  it  created. 
I  have  not  concealed  the  difficulties  under  which  it  grew  up, 
and  which  explain  and  palliate  the  conduct  of  the  legislators, 
and  if  a  comparison  were  made  between  the  losses  English 
landlords  have  undergone  through  economical  causes,  and 
the  losses  of  Irish  landlords  under  the  action  of  the  law,  it  is 
very  doubtful  whether  the  position  of  the  former  would 
appear  the  more  desirable.  But,  when  all  this  is  said,  it  is 
impossible  reasonably  to  deny  that  this  legislation  involves 
as  distinct  instances  of  national  faith  violated,  of  property 
guaranteed  by  law  taken  without  compensation,  as  can  be 
found  in  the  proceedings  of  any  of  those  defaulting  govern- 
ments of  South  America  on  which  English  public  opinion  has 
so  often  and  so  largely  expended  its  indignation.  If  Parlia- 
ment passed  a  law  repudiating  its  railway  guarantees,  or  the 
whole  or  part  of  the  interest  of  the  National  Debt,  or  limiting 
by  an  act  of  power  the  profits  of  tradesmen,  or  compelling 
a  London  lodging-house  keeper  to  give  fixity  of  tenure  at 
a  reduced  rent  to  a  London  workman,  or  placing  the 
debentures  and  preference  shares  of  a  railway  on  the  same 
basis  as  the  ordinary  shares,  or  obliging  a  railway  company 
to  expend  the  whole  or  nearly  the  whole  of  its  profits  in 
cheapening  fares,  instead  of  increasing  dividends,  it  would 
not  be  invading  the  rights  of  property  more  clearly. 

It  is  idle  to  suppose  that  such  a  precedent  can  be  confined 
to  Ireland,  or  Irish  land,  or  Irish  landlords.  With  a  suffrage 
that  gives  the  predominant  power  to  the  very  ignorant  and 
the  very  poor ;  in  an  age  when  every  kind  of  predatory 
theory  relating  to  property  is  in  the  air,  and  when  the  province 
of  State  interference  is  continually  extending,  and  under  a 
Constitution  which  gives  no  special  protection  to  contracts, 
such  a  precedent  is  certain  to  grow.  A  departure  from  sound 
principle  in  legislation  is  nearly  always  advocated,  in  the  first 
instance,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  entirely  exceptional,  strictly 
limited  in  its  application,  certain  to  do  no  practical  harm,  and 
intended  to  secure  some  practical  benefit.     Once  admitted,  it 

1  Journals,  <£c,  relating  to  Ireland,  i.  2. 


174  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

soon  becomes  a  starting-point  or  logical  premise,  and  is 
pushed  into  new  fields  and  to  new  consequences. 

There  are  very  few  forms  of  confiscation  which  an 
ingenious  man  may  not  justify  by  the  Irish  precedent.  Irish 
landlordism  is  far  from  being  an  exceptional  thing,  and  op- 
pressive rents  and  harsh  evictions  will  be  found  in  greater 
abundance  in  the  poorer  quarters  of  London,  Paris,  or  New 
York,  than  in  Mayo  and  Connemara.  The  well-known 
American  writer,  Mr.  George,  compares  Irish  landlords  to 
useless,  ravenous,  destructive  beasts,  but  he  acknowledges,  a 
few  pages  later,  that  they  are  in  no  degree  harder  than  any 
similar  class ;  that  they  are  less  grasping  towards  their  tenants 
than  the  farmers  who  rent  of  them  are  towards  the  labourers 
to  whom  they  sublet ;  that  it  is  pure  '  humbug '  to  pretend  that 
'  Irish  landlordism  is  something  different  from  American  land- 
lordism ; '  and  that  the  position  of  an  American  tenant  is,  in 
fact,  not  better,  but  worse,  than  that  of  an  Irish  one.  '  In 
the  United  States  the  landlord  has,  in  all  its  fulness,  the  un- 
restricted power  of  doing  as  he  pleases  with  his  own.  Rack- 
renting  is  with  us  the  common,  almost  the  exclusive,  form  of 
renting.  There  is  no  long  process  to  be  gone  through  to 
secure  an  eviction,  no  serving  notice  upon  the  relieving  officer 
of  the  district.  The  tenant  whom  the  landlord  wants  to  get 
rid  of  can  be  expelled  with  the  minimum  of  cost  and  expense.' 
Mr.  George  quotes  with  approval  the  statement  of  an 
American  judge  that  there  are  few  months  in  which  at  least 
100  warrants  of  ejection  are  not  issued  against  poor  tenants 
in  the  more  squalid  quarters  of  New   York.1 

In  countless  instances,  indeed,  the  rents  of  poor  men's 
houses,  the  value  of  poor  men's  investments,  and  the  burden- 
someness  of  poor  men's  contracts,  are  affected  by  circum- 
stances which  they  could  neither  foresee  nor  control.  How 
often  does  some  great  quarter  of  houses  for  the  poor  grow  up 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  flourishing  industry,  but  a  change  of 
fashion,  a  new  invention,  a  migration  of  population  or  capital, 
destroys  the  industry  :  work  ebbs  away,  prices  and  wages 
change,  contracts  which  were  once  easy  and  natural  become 
1  George's  Social  Problems,  chap.  xi. 


THE   NATIONALISATION   OF   LAND  175 

overwhelmingly  oppressive,  and  with  diminishing  or  disap- 
pearing profits,  the  interest  of  money  borrowed  to  carry  on  the 
business  ruins  the  worker.  Ought  the  State  under  such 
circumstances  to  constitute  itself  a  kind  of  Providence,  to 
break  contracts  and  regulate  anew  the  conditions  of  industry  ? 
And  if  it  begins  to  do  this,  without  giving  compensation  for 
rights  that  it  takes  away,  and  under  mere  political  pressure, 
at  what  point  is  it  likely  to  stop  ? 

Reflections  of  this  kind  must  have  occurred  to  every  think- 
ing man  who  observes  the  course  of  modern  politics,  and  the 
alacrity  and  complaisance  with  which  schemes  of  the  most 
wholesale  plunder  are  in  many  quarters  received.  One 
favourite  form  has  consisted  of  attacks  on  the  private  owner- 
ship of  land,  and  the  popularity  attained  by  the  writings  of 
Mr.  George,  who  preaches  on  this  subject  the  most  extreme 
doctrine,  is  a  striking  sign  of  the  times.  Nothing,  indeed,  in 
history  or  in  economics  is  more  plain  than  that  the  strong 
stimulus  of  an  exclusive  personal  interest  can  alone  attract 
to  land  the  labour  and  the  capital  that  make  it  fully  produc- 
tive, and  that  the  productiveness  of  the  soil  is  one  of  the  first 
conditions  of  the  wellbeing  of  the  whole  community.  The 
transition  from  the  common  ownership  of  land  which  existed 
when  mankind  were  thinly  scattered  nomads  and  hunters, 
to  a  divided  land  cultivated  and  fertilised  by  individual  industry, 
was  one  of  the  first  and  most  valuable  steps  in  the  progress 
of  civilisation.  Nothing  also  in  morals  is  more  plain  than 
that  to  abolish  without  compensation  that  private  ownership 
which  has  existed  unquestioned  for  countless  generations,  and 
on  the  faith  of  which  tens  of  thousands  of  men  in  all  ages  and 
lands,  and  with  the  sanction  and  under  the  guarantee  of  the 
laws  of  all  nations,  have  invested  the  fruits  of  their  industry 
and  their  thrift,  would  be  an  act  of  simple,  gross,  naked, 
gigantic  robbery.  Were  it  not  so,  indeed,  the  words  '  honesty ' 
and  '  dishonesty  '  would  have  no  real  meaning.  Yet  such  a 
proposal  has  been  warmly  welcomed,  such  a  measure  has  been 
eagerl}*  advocated,  by  many  who  would  be  very  indignant  if  they 
were  described  as  the  accomplices  of  thieves,  and  who  would 
probably  be  perfectly  incapable  in  their  private  capacities  of 


176  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

an  act  of  dishonesty.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  State  simply- 
purchased  honestly  the  land  of  the  country,  and  placed  itself 
in  the  position  of  the  landlord,  it  is  easy  to  show  that  the 
whole  transaction  could  only  end  in  a  ruinous  loss.  The  position 
of  the  occupying  tenant  would  be  unchanged,  except  that  he 
would  pay  his  rent,  not  to  a  private  individual,  but  to  the 
representative  of  the  State.  The  purchase  money  could  only 
be  raised  by  a  colossal  loan,  which  would  have  to  be  paid  for 
in  the  shape  of  interest.  The  returns  from  land  are  so  small 
that,  far  from  furnishing  a  surplus  for  the  relief  of  taxation, 
they  would,  in  most  cases,  be  insufficient  to  pay  the  simple 
interest  of  this  loan,  even  if  it  could  be  raised  on  ordinary  terms. 
But  every  competent  judge  must  know  the  utter  impossibility 
of  raising  such  a  loan  at  the  ordinary  price,  and  without 
producing  a  financial  convulsion  probably  more  tremendous 
than  any  that  the  world  has  seen.1 

Another  doctrine  which,  in  different  forms,  has  spread 
widely  through  public  opinion  is  that  of  Mill  about  '  the  un- 
earned increment.'  Starting  from  the  belief  that  the  value  of 
land  has  a  natural  tendency  to  increase  through  the  progress 
of  society,  and  without  any  exertion  or  sacrifice  on  the  part 
of  the  owner,  Mill  proposed  that  this  '  unearned  increment ' 
should  be  steadily  intercepted  and  appropriated  by  the  State 
in  the  form  of  taxation.  It  was  true,  Mill  acknowledged, 
that  men  had  long  bought  land,  which  brings  a  smaller  return 
than  almost  any  other  form  of  investment,  through  a  belief 
that  their  income  would  gradually  increase,  and  with  an 
implied  assurance  that  they  would  only  be  taxed  in  propor- 
tion to  other  incomes.  Mill,  however,  very  honestly  met 
this  objection  by  maintaining  that  the  confiscation  of  the 
increment  should  only  take  place  from  the  present  time  and 
with  due  notice,  and  that  the  landlord  should  have  the  alterna- 
tive of  receiving  from  the  State  the  present  market  value,  * 
which  includes  the  present  value  of  all  future  expectations. 

In  the  long  period  of  agricultural  depression  through  which  - 
England  and  most  other  countries  have  passed  the  doctrine 

1  Mr.  Fawcett  has  dealt  fully  with  this  aspect  of  the  question  in  an  admirable 
pamphlet  called  State  Socialism  and  the  Nationalisation  of  Land  (1883). 


THE  UNEARNED  INCREMENT  177 

of  '  an  unearned  increment '  wears  an  aspect  of  irony.  For 
many  years  the  market  value  of  agricultural  land,  instead  of 
rising,  has  been  steadily  falling,  and  history  clearly  shows  that 
the  same  phenomenon  has  taken  place  in  many  long  periods 
and  in  many  great  countries.  If  the  State  takes  from  the 
owner  by  exceptional  taxation  the  normal  rise  in  the  value 
of  his  land,  it  may  very  reasonably  be  expected  by  excep- 
tional legislation  to  compensate  him  for  its  fall. 

No  statement  can  be  more  palpably  untrue  than  that 
'  unearned  increment '  is  a  thing  in  any  degree  peculiar  to 
land.  The  growth  of  population  and  the  development 
of  civilisation  exercise  exactly  the  same  influence  on  the 
shares  of  a  railway  or  a  dockyard ;  on  the  wages  of  the 
labourer  ;  on  the  fees  of  the  professional  man  ;  on  the  master- 
pieces of  art,  on  the  value  of  innumerable  articles  of 
commerce.  In  countless  cases  property  is  increased,  or 
industry  and  ability  reap  larger  rewards  in  consequence  of 
changes  which  do  not  lie  within  themselves,  and  to  which 
they  have  contributed  nothing,  but  which  are  wholly  due  to 
extraneous  and  surrounding  circumstances.  Ask  any  rich 
man  which  of  his  investments,  without  any  sacrifice  or  exer- 
tion on  his  part,  have  doubled  or  trebled  in  value,  and  you  will 
find  that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  they  have  no  connec- 
tion with  land.  What  reason  is  there,  therefore,  for  select- 
ing for  exceptional  and  penal  taxation  the  single  form  of  pro- 
perty which  usually  produces  the  least  return,  and  which  is 
associated  to  the  greatest  degree  with  the  discharge  of  duties 
that  are  eminently  useful  to  the  State  ?  And  this  proposal  is 
made  in  a  country  where  so  large  an  amount  of  money  has 
been  sunk  in  land  by  mairy  generations  of  proprietors  that 
the  actual  rent  would  represent,  in  very  many  instances, 
nothing  more  than  the  lowest  interest  on  the  outlay ;  in  a 
country  where  the  value  of  personal  property  enormously 
exceeds  that  of  land,  and  has  been,  during  the  last  century 
and  a  half ,  advancing  with  a  vastly  greater  rapidity.  Accord- 
ing to  Sir  Robert  Giffen,  land  in  England  constituted  in 
1090  about  00  per  cent,  of  the  national  wealth,  and  in  1800 
about  40  per  cent.  In  the  United  Kingdom  it  constituted,  in 
vol.  1.  N 


178  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

1812,  44  per  cent.  ;  in  1865,  30  per  cent. ;  in  1875,  24  per 
cent. ;  in  1884,  only  17  per  cent.1 

The  true  explanation  of  such  proposals  is  political.  It  is  to 
be  found  in  that  almost  rabid  hatred  of  the  landed  interest, 
growing  out  of  political  antagonism,  which  has  characterised 
large  bodies  of  English  Radicals,  and  which,  in  a  time  when 
the  deep  agricultural  depression  forms  probably  our  most 
serious  national  evil  and  danger,  makes  the  increased  taxation 
of  land  one  of  the  most  popular  of  Radical  cries. 

One  argument,  upon  which  much  stress  has  been  put,  but 
which  has  now,  in  a  great  degree,  lost  its  force,  is  that  the 
land  of  the  country  is  the  source  of  the  food  on  which  its 
people  depend,  and  that  special  legislation  ought  therefore  to 
prevent  it  from  being  in  the  uncontrolled  power  of  the  few. 
As  I  have  already  said,  I  believe  that,  if  any  clear  case  of 
public  welfare  can  be  established,  the  Government  has  the 
right  to  take  complete  or  partial  possession  of  the  land,  on 
condition  of  compensating  the  owners.  If  England  were 
surrounded  by  a  brass  wall,  and  if  its  people  depended  for 
their  subsistence  on  the  crops  raised  within  that  wall,  severe 
restrictions  should  undoubtedly  be  placed  on  the  use  of  great 
portions  of  the  soil  for  parks  or  sporting  purposes.  But  the 
situation  is  much  modified  when  the  main  supply  of  food  for 
the  people  is  not  derived  from  English  soil,  but  comes  from 
the  United  States,  from  the  Colonies,  from  India,  and  from 
Russia,  and  when  this  supply  pours  in  with  such  abundance 
and  at  such  prices  that  the  best  English  land  is  almost 
crushed  by  the  competition,  while  the  inferior  lands  have 
become,  as  food-producing  land,  almost  useless. 

The  unreality,  however,  of  the  speculation  that  would 
separate  landed  property  by  a  sharp  generic  distinction  as  an 
object  of  spoliation  from  all  other  property  speedily  became 
apparent.  The  same  class  of  reasoners  soon  found  that 
similar  or  analogous  arguments  may  be  applied  to  other 
branches  of  property,  and  to  defence  of  other  forms  of  dis- 
honesty. It  is  a  significant  fact  that  while  Mr.  George  in 
his  first  book  only  proposed  to  rob  the  landowner,  in  his 
1  Giffen's  Growth  of  Capital,  pp.  111-12. 


NATIONAL   DEBTS-ROYALTIES  1 79 

second  book  he  proposed  equally  to  rob  the  f  undowner,  being 
now  convinced  that  the  institution  of  public  debts  and  private 
property  in  land  rested  on  the  same  basis.  In  nearly  all  the 
Socialist  programmes  that  are  now  issued  on  the  Continent 
the  '  nationalisation  of  land '  is  included,  but  it  is  alwaj-s 
coupled  with  proposals  for  the  nationalisation  of  all  capital 
and  means  of  production,  and  for  the  repudiation  of  national 
debts. 

Jefferson  had  already  anticipated  these  writers  in  their 
advocacy  of  the  repudiation  of  national  debts  ;  and  it  must 
be  acknowledged  that  the  arguments  for  this  course  are  quite 
as  plausible  as  those  in  favour  of  land  spoliation.  It  is  said 
that  one  generation  cannot  bind  another  and  impose  on  it 
the  interest  of  its  debts.  We  are  reminded  that  these  debts 
were  incurred  at  a  time  when  the  masses,  who  now  consider 
themselves,  by  a  kind  of  right  divine,  the  rulers  of  the  State, 
were  almost  wholly  unrepresented,  and  for  objects  of  which 
they  altogether  disapprove.  Demagogues  are  not  wanting  to 
persuade  them  that  the  war  of  the  American  Revolution  and 
the  war  of  the  French  Revolution,  which  are  responsible  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  debt,  were  mere  crimes  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, and  crimes  directed  against  the  people.  Are  the 
people,  it  is  asked,  for  ever  to  bear  the  burden  of  debts  so 
incurred,  and  incurred,  too,  when  the  national  credit  was  so 
low  that  not  more  than  70/  or  60/.  was  paid  to  the  Exchequer 
for  bonds  which  now  bear  the  value  of  100/.? 

As  democracy  advances,  and  precedents  of  spoliation  pass 
into  legislation,  doctrines  of  this  kind  are  likely  to  find  an 
increasing  number  of  adherents.  This  prospect  renders 
peculiarly  alarming  the  enormous  increase  of  national  debt 
that  has  taken  place  in  Europe  during  the  last  few  decades. 
It  justifies  the  wisdom  of  the  policy  of  America  in  paying 
off,  even  by  very  drastic  measures,  the  bulk  of  its  debt,  and 
also  the  great  and  praiseworthy  efforts  that  have  been  made 
by  British  Governments  in  the  same  direction  1 

Mining  royalties  stand  on  the  same  footing  as  private  pro- 
perty in  land.  They  are  a  kind  of  property  which  has  been  for 
generations  bought,  sold,  mortgaged,  and  bequeathed  with  the 


180  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

full  sanction  of  the  law,  and  they  have  been  estimated  in  the 
British  Isles  at  the  enormous  sum  of  eight  millions  a  year. 
There  is  a  party,  though  happily  not  a  large  one,  who  openly 
advocate  their  simple  confiscation.  Thus  the  Glasgow  Trade 
Council  passed  a  resolution,  '  That  this  Council  instructs  the 
secretary  to  state  to  the  (Mining  Royalties)  Commission  that 
it  is  in  favour  of  mining  royalties  becoming  national  property 
without  compensation  being  given.'  Similar  views  are  fre- 
quently expressed  in  Socialist  literature,  and  they  were  put 
forward  by  some  witnesses  before  the  Labour  Commission, 
the  most  conspicuous  upholder  of  this  shameless  dishonesty 
being  a  Radical  member  of  Parliament.1 

Another  kind  of  property  which  has  been  the  subject  of 
much  more  or  less  ingenious  sophistry  is  literary  property. 
The  right  of  an  author  to  the  profits  of  the  book  he  has 
written  rests  on  the  highest  and  simplest  title  by  which 
property  can  be  held — that  of  creation.  The  author  made 
it.  His  title  to  what  he  has  himself  created,  like  that  of  the 
labourer  to  what  he  has  himself  earned,  is  certainly  more 
direct,  if  it  is  not  of  a  higher  kind,  than  that  of  any  species  of 
property  which  is  simply  hereditary.  But  the  peculiarity  of 
literary  property  is,  that  while  it  may  be  of  great  value  to  its 
author,  and  of  great  utility  to  mankind,  it  may  be  stolen  with 
peculiar  facility,  and  in  a  different  way  from  most  other 
kinds  of  property.  Like  a  bank-note,  its  value  is  destroyed  if 
every  one  is  allowed  to  reproduce  it,  and  hence  laws  of  copy- 
right have  been  found  necessary  to  protect  it.  Among  all  the 
forms  of  property,  few  are  so  imperfectly  protected  as  this  ; 
but  there  are  some  who  would  abolish  it  altogether,  refusing 
all  legal  protection  to  literary  property.  One  of  their 
arguments  is,  that  an  author  merely  gives  a  form  to  ideas 
and  knowledge  which  are  floating  in  the  intellectual  atmo- 
sphere around  him,  and  which  are  the  common  property  of 
all  men,  and  has,  therefore,  no  exclusive  right  to  what  he 
has  written.  If  this  be  true — and  it  is  far  from  being  abso- 
lutely so — the  simple  answer  is,  that  it  is  to  the  form  alone, 
which  is  his  own  work,  that  he  claims  an  exclusive  right.  A 
1  Spyers,  The  Labour  Question,  pp.  128-80. 


LITERARY   PROPERTY  l8l 

sculptor's  right  of  property  in  his  statue  is  not  destroyed  by 
the  fact  that  the  clay  and  the  marble  existed  before  he 
touched  them  with  his  chisel.  An  author  claims  no  monopoly 
in  his  ideas  ;  but  the  form  in  which  he  moulds  them  is  so 
essentially  the  main  element  in  the  question,  that  the  distinc- 
tion is  for  all  practical  purposes  trivial.  There  is  no  idea  in 
Gray's  Elegy  which  has  not  passed  through  thousands  of 
minds.     Gray  alone  gave  them  the  form  which  is  immortal. 

It  is  said  that  an  author  is  a  '  monopolist '  because  he 
claims  an  exclusive  right  of  selling  his  book,  and  that  his 
claim  is  therefore  opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  free  trade.  But 
this  is  a  pure  confusion  of  thought.  In  the  sense  of  political 
economy,  a  man  is  a  monopolist  who  prevents  others  from 
pursuing  a  form  of  industry  which  they  might  have  pursued 
independently  of  him,  and  had  he  not  existed.  He  is  not  a 
monopolist  if  he  only  prevents  them  from  appropriating  what 
he  alone  has  made,  and  what  would  not  have  existed  with- 
out him.  An  author  is  a  monopolist  in  no  other  sense  than  a 
proprietor  or  labourer  who  claims  the  exclusive  possession  of 
his  own  earnings  or  his  own  inheritance.  If  I  write  the  his- 
tory of  a  particular  period,  I  claim  no  legal  right  of  debarring 
others  from  writing  about  the  same  period,  or  using  the  mate- 
rials that  I  have  used.  I  claim  only  an  exclusive  right  in  that 
specific  work  which  I  have  myself  made.  A  fisherman  would 
be  rightly  called  a  monopolist  if  he  excluded  all  others  from 
fishing  in  the  sea.  He  is  not  rightly  called  a  monopolist  if 
he  only  claims  an  exclusive  right  to  dispose  of  the  fish  which 
he  has  himself  caught  in  the  sea,  which  is  open  to  all.1 

But  the  author,  it  is  said,  is  under  a  special  obligation  to 
the  State  because  his  property  is  protected  by  a  special  law. 
The  answer  is,  that  the   very  object  for  which  all  govern - 

1  Locke's  remarks  about  landed  property  appear  to  me  very  eminently  ap- 
plicable to  copyright.  '  Whatsoever  a  man  removes  out  of  the  state  that 
Nature  hath  provided  and  left  it  in,  he  hath  mixed  his  labour  with,  and  joined 
to  it  something  that  is  his  own,  and  thereby  makes  it  his  property.  It  being 
by  him  removed  from  the  common  state  Nature  hath  placed  it  in,  it  hath  by 
this  labour  something  annexed  to  it  that  excludes  the  common  right  of  other 
men.  For,  this  labour  being  the  unquestionable  property  of  the  labourer,  no 
man  but  he  can  have  a  right  to  what  that  is  once  joined  to,  at  least  where  there  is 
enough  and  as  good  left  in  common  for  others '  (Locke  On  Civil  Government,  c.  v.). 


1 82  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

merits  are  primarily  created,  and  for  which  all  taxes  are 
paid,  is  the  protection  of  life  and  property.  A  government 
in  protecting  property  is  simply  discharging  its  most 
elementary  duty.  Different  kinds  of  property  may  be 
invaded,  and  must  therefore  be  protected  in  different  ways ; 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  protection  of  literature  costs  the 
State  much  less  in  labour,  in  money,  and  in  popularity 
than  the  protection  of  pheasants. 

Others  again  contend  for  what  they  call  the  nationalisa- 
tion of  the  means  of  communication,  or,  in  other  words,  the 
appropriation  of  the  railways  and  all  other  public  convey- 
ances by  the  State.  If  by  this  term  is  meant  that  the 
Government  should  either  construct,  or  purchase  at  a  fair 
price,  the  railways  within  its  dominion,  there  is  no  objection 
of  principle  to  be  raised.  The  system  of  State  railways 
exists  in  many  countries.  In  judging  whether  it  is  for  the 
advantage  of  the  nation  as  a  whole,  we  have  to  consider  a 
large  number  of  conflicting  and  closely  balanced  advantages 
and  disadvantages,  and  the  preponderance  in  each  country 
must  be  decided  according  to  its  own  special  economical 
circumstances.  It  is  also  universally  admitted  that  the 
State,  having  given  great  privileges  and  powers  to  a  railway 
company,  is  perfectly  justified  in  imposing  upon  it  many 
restrictions.  But  when  it  is  claimed  that  the  State  may, 
without  purchase,  or  at  a  rate  of  compensation  below  its 
real  value,  take  possession  of  a  railway,  depriving  of  their 
property  the  shareholders  at  whose  risk  and  cost  it  was 
made,  it  can  only  be  answered  that  such  a  claim  is  simple 
and  naked  robbery.  And  the  same  thing  may  be  confidently 
asserted  of  many  other  ambitious  schemes  for  '  nationalising  ' 
all  great  industrial  undertakings  and  absorbing  all  capital 
into  the  State.  If  the  element  of  just  purchase  enters  into 
these  transactions,  they  would  only  result  in  a  great  financial 
catastrophe.  If  purchase  or  compensation  be  refused,  the 
catastrophe  would  not  be  averted,  but  the  process  would  be 
one  of  gigantic  robbery. 

Such  schemes  for  turning  the  State  into  the  universal 
landlord,  the  universal  manufacturer,  the   universal    shop- 


THE   CLAIMS   OF   SOCIALISM  183 

keeper,  reorganising  from  its  foundations  the  whole  indus- 
trial system  of  the  world,  excluding  from  it  all  competition 
and  all  the  play  of  individual  emulation  and  ambition,  can 
never,  I  believe,  be  even  approximately  realised  ;  but  no  one 
who  watches  the  growth  of  Socialist  opinion  in  nearly  all 
countries  can  doubt  that  many  steps  will  be  taken  in  this 
direction  in  a  not  remote  future. 

The  question  in  what  degree  and  in  what  manner  the 
demands  that  are  rising  may  be  wisely  met  is  of  the 
utmost  importance.  The  subject  is  one  which  I  propose  to 
discuss  at  some  length  in  later  chapters.  Two  things  may 
here  be  said.  One  is,  that  in  an  overcrowded  country  like 
England,  whose  prosperity  rests  much  less  on  great  natural 
resources  than  on  the  continuance  of  a  precarious  and  highly 
artificial  commercial  and  manufacturing  supremacy,  any 
revolution  that  may  lead  to  a  migration  of  capital  or  the 
destruction  of  credit  is  more  than  commonly  dangerous. 
The  other  is,  that  this  class  of  questions  is  eminently  one  in 
which  consequences  that  are  obscure,  intricate,  indirect,  and 
remote  are  often,  in  the  long  run,  more  important  than  those 
which  are  obvious  and  immediate. 

Is  the  parliamentary  system  in  the  democratic  form 
which  it  has  of  late  years  assumed  well  fitted  for  wisely 
dealing  with  these  difficult  and  dangerous  questions '?  Let 
any  one  observe  how  steadily  and  rapidly  the  stable  forces, 
which  in  old  days  shaped  and  guided  the  course  of  English 
politics,  are  losing  their  influence.  Let  him  watch  closely 
a  great  popular  election,  and  observe  how  largely  the  chance 
of  a  candidate  depends  upon  his  skill  in  appealing  to  the 
direct  and  immediate  interests,  or  supposed  interests,  of  large 
sections  of  the  electorate  ;  in  making  use  of  claptrap  and 
popular  cries  ;  in  inflaming  class  animosities  and  antipathies, 
and  pledging  himself  so  far  as  to  conciliate  many  distinct 
groups  of  faddists.  Let  him  then  observe  how  Parliament 
itself  is  breaking  into  small  groups  ;  how  the  permanent 
forces  of  intelligence  and  property,  which  once  enabled 
governments  to  pursue  their  paths  independently  of  fluctuat- 
ing or  transient  gusts  of  ignorant  opinion,  are   weakened  ; 


184  DEMOCRACY   AND  LIBERTY 

how  large  a  part  of  legislation,  especially  in  the  closing 
period  of  a  Parliament,  is  manifestly  intended  for  mere 
electioneering  purposes ;  how  very  few  public  men  look 
much  beyond  the  interests  of  their  party  and  the  chances  of 
an  election.  He  must  be  a  sanguine  man  who  can  look 
across  such  a  scene  with  much  confidence  to  the  future. 

He  will  not,  if  he  is  a  wise  man,  be  reassured  .by  the 
prevailing  habit,  so  natural  in  democracies,  of  canonising, 
and  almost  idolising,  mere  majorities,  even  when  they  are 
mainly  composed  of  the  most  ignorant  men,  voting  under  all 
the  misleading  influences  of  side-issues  and  violent  class  or 
party  passions.  '  The  voice  of  the  people,'  as  expressed  at 
the  polls,  is  to  many  politicians  the  sum  of  all  wisdom,  the 
supreme  test  of  truth  or  falsehood.  It  is  even  more  than 
this  :  it  is  invested  with  something  very  like  the  spiritual 
efficacy  which  theologians  have  ascribed  to  baptism.  It  is 
supposed  to  wash  away  all  sin.  However  unscrupulous, 
however  dishonest,  may  be  the  acts  of  a  party  or  of  a  states- 
man, they  are  considered  to  be  justified  beyond  reproach  if 
they  have  been  condoned  or  sanctioned  at  a  general  election. 
It  has  sometimes  happened  that  a  politician  has  been  found 
guilty  of  a  grave  personal  offence  by  an  intelligent  and 
impartial  jury,  after  a  minute  investigation  of  evidence,  con- 
ducted with  the  assistance  of  highly  trained  advocates,  and 
under  the  direction  of  an  experienced  judge.  He  afterwards 
finds  a  constituency  which  will  send  him  to  Parliament,  and 
the  newspapers  of  his  party  declare  that  his  character  is 
now  clear.  He  has  been  absolved  by  '  the  great  voice  'of  the 
people.'  Truly  indeed  did  Carlyle  say  that  the  superstitions 
to  be  feared  in  the  present  day  are  much  less  religious  than 
political ;  and  of  all  the  forms  of  idolatry  I  know  none  more 
irrational  and  ignoble  than  this  blind  worship  of  mere 
numbers. 

It  has  led  many  politicians  to  subordinate  all  notions  of 
right  and  wrong  to  the  wishes  or  interests  of  majorities,  and 
to  act  on  the  maxim  that  the  end  justifies  the  means  quite  as 
audaciously  as  the  most  extreme  Jesuit  casuists.  This  new 
Jesuitism  has,  indeed,  much  real  affinity  with  the  old  one. 


JESUITISM— OLD   AND   NEW  1&5 

The  root  idea  of  the  old  Jesuitism  was  a  strongly  realised 
conviction  that  the  Catholic  Church  is  so  emphatically  the 
inspired  teacher  of  mankind,  and  the  representative  of  the 
Deity  upon  earth,  that  no  act  can  be  immoral  which  is 
performed  in  its  service  and  is  conducive  to  its  interests. 
The  root  idea  of  the  new  Jesuitism  is  the  belief  that  the  moral 
law  has  no  deeper  foundation  and  no  higher  sanction  than 
utility,  and  that  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number  is  its  supreme  test  and  ideal.  From  this  it  is  easily 
inferred  that  minorities  have  no  rights  as  against  majorities. 
In  both  cases,  too,  the  love  of  power  plays  a  great  part.  The 
old  Jesuit  found  in  his  doctrine  a  strong  lever  for  governing 
the  Church  and  influencing  the  world.  The  new  Jesuit 
finds  his  doctrine  peculiarly  useful  in  a  society  in  which 
all  political  power  is  obtained  by  winning  the  votes  of  a 
majority.  Many  good  Catholics  will  maintain  that  the  old 
Jesuit  misread  .the  teaching  of  the  Church,  and  some  of 
them  believe  that  religion  has  had  no  worse  enemy  than  a 
society  which  has  associated  the  most  sacred  Name  given 
among' men  with  falsehood,  imposture,  unscrupulous  tyranny, 
and  intrigue.  Many  good  utilitarians  will  say  that  the  new 
Jesuit  has  calculated  falsely  the  balance  of  utilities,  and 
that  no  course  of  policy  which  shakes  the  security  of  property 
or  contract,  and  the  rights  of  minorities,  can  be,  in  its  far-off 
results,  for  the  benefit  of  the  majority.  But  in  each  case  the 
inference  of  the  Jesuit  is  plausible  and  natural,  and  it  is  an 
inference  that  is  certain  to  be  drawn. 

Some  of  my  readers  will  probably  consider  it  fanciful  to 
attribute  to  theories  of  moral  philosophy  any  influence  over 
political  conduct.  In  England,  speculative  opinion  has  not 
usually  much  weight  in  practical  politics,  and  English 
politicians  are  very  apt  to  treat  it  with  complete  disdain. 
Yet  no  one  who  has  any  real  knowledge  of  history  can 
seriously  doubt  the  influence  over  human  affairs  which  has 
been  exercised  by  the  speculations  of  Locke,  of  Rousseau,  of 
Montesquieu,  of  Adam  Smith,  or  of  Bentham.  The  force  and 
the  intensity  which  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  has  of  late 
years  assumed  throughout  Europe  is  not  unconnected  with 


1 86  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  new  importance  which  speculative  writers  have  given 
to  race  affinities  and  characteristics,  and  something  of 
the  current  Radical  notions  about  land  is  certainly  due  to 
our  increased  knowledge  of  the  wide  diffusion,  in  the  early 
stages  of  society,  of  joint  or  communal  ownership  of  the 
soil. 

So,  too,  I  believe  the  views  of  many  politicians  have  been 
not  a  little  coloured  by  the  doctrines  of  moral  philosophy, 
which  have  of  late  years  been  widely  popular,  which  reduce 
our  conceptions  of  right  and  wrong,  of  justice  or  injustice,  to 
mere  general  utility,  or  a  calculation  of  interests.  Philosophy 
has  its  fanatics  as  well  as  religion,  and  to  this  conception*  of 
ethics  may  be  largely  traced  the  utter  unscrupulousness  in 
dealing  with  the  rights  of  minorities  which  is  sometimes 
found  among  men  who  are  certainly  not  mere  unprincipled 
self-seekers.  In  every  conflict  of  interests  between  the  few 
who  own  a  thing,  or  have  produced  it,  or  paid  for  it,  or  run 
the  risks  attending  it,  and  the  many  who  wish  to  enjoy  it, 
this  bias  may  be  discerned.  In  the  eyes  of  many  politicians, 
all  differences  between  the  landlord  and  his  tenants,  between 
the  "author  and  his  readers,  between  railway-shareholders  and 
the  travelling  public,  between  the  producer  and  the  con- 
sumers, are  simply  regarded  as  conflicts  between  the  few  and 
the  many,  and  the  rights  of  the  few  cease  to  have  any  binding 
force  if  their  destruction  is  likely  to  confer  an  immediate 
benefit  on  the  many. 

Herbert  Spencer  has  said,  with  profound  truth  and  wisdom, 
that  'the  end  which  the  statesman  should  keep  in  view  as 
higher  than  all  other  ends  is  the  formation  of  character.' 
It  is  on  this  side  that  democratic  politics  seem  to  me 
peculiarly  weak.  Let  us  once  more  look  at  the  representative 
body.  Even  taking  the  lowest  test,  can  it  be  confidently 
said  that  its  moral  level  is  what  it  was  ?  Too  much  stress 
may  perhaps  be  laid  on  the  many  grave  private  scandals 
that  have  taken  place  among  its  members  within  the  last 
twenty  or  thirty  years.  It  is  impossible,  however,  not  to  be 
struck  by  the  number  of  cases  in  which  members  of  that 
House  have  during  this  space  of  time  been  found  guilty  of 


HOUSE   OF  COMMONS  ETHICS  1 87 

acts  of  financial  dishonesty  that  brought  them  within  the 
scope  of  the  criminal  law,  or  of  other  forms  of  immorality 
sufficiently  grave  to  come  before  the  law  courts.  The  House 
of  Commons  consists  of  670  members.  About  the  year  1892 
the  committee  of  a  great  London  club  containing  nearly 
twice  as  many  members  had  their  attention  called  to  the 
fact  that,  by  a  curious  omission  in  their  rules,  no  provision 
had  been  made  for  the  expulsion  of  any  member  who,  without 
breaking  the  precise  rules  of  the  club,  had  been  guilty  of  any 
i  6%  those  gross  scandals  which  make  men  unfit  for  the  society 
of  gentlemen.  The  omission  had  been  unnoticed  because, 
although  the  club  had  existed  since  1824,  no  such  case  had 
arisen  among  its  members.  It  would  be  unreasonable  to 
expect  from  a  body  elected  under  such  stormy  and  contentious 
conditions  as  the  House  of  Commons  a  standard  as  high  as 
that  in .  the  Athenasum'  Club,  but  surely  the  contrast  is  too 
great  and  too  marked  to  be  lightly  dismissed.  And  if  we 
extend  our  survey  beyond  England,  and  count  up  the  instances 
of  gross  profligacy  or  dishonesty  which  have  been  detected, 
often  in  very  high  places,  in  the  Parliaments  of  the  Continent, 
of  the  United  States,  and  of  the  Colonies,  in  the  present  gene- 
ration, the  evidence  will  accumulate,  showing  how  little 
democratic  election  secures  a  high  standard  of  integrity  and 
morality. 

The  House  of  Commons,  however,  as  I  have  before  said, 
is  essentially  a  body  of  trustees,  and  it  is  by  their  performance 
of  their  public  duty  that  its  members  must  be  chiefly  judged. 
Is  it  too  much  to  say  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the  great  body 
of  educated  men,  there  has  been  in  this  respect  a  marked 
decline  ?  T  am  anxious  on  this  subject  to  avoid  all  exaggera- 
tion. It  is  not  yet  true  of  England,  as  it  is  of  America,  that 
the  best  men  in  intellect  and  character  avoid  public  life, 
though  4here  are  ominous  signs  that  this  may  before  long  be 
the  case.  Parliament  still  contains  a  large  body  of  such 
men,  and  there  have  been  several  conspicuous  modern 
instances  showing  how  much  the  weight  of  character  still 
tells  in  public  life.  Probably  a  large  proportion  of  my 
readers  will  be  of  opinion  that  the  year  1886  witnessed  the 


1 88  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

worst  act  of  modern  English  politics ;  but  it  at  least  brought 
with  it  the  consoling  spectacle  of  a  large  body  of  public  men, 
several  of  them  of  the  highest  political  eminence,  deliberately 
and  without  any  possible  selfish  motive  breaking  old  ties 
and  sacrificing  political  ambition  rather  than  take  part  in  a 
disgraceful  scene.  But,  on  the  whole,  can  any  one  doubt  that 
apostasies  have  been  more  shameless,  class  bribes  more 
habitual,  and  the  tone  of  the  House  of  Commons  less  high, 
than  in  the  last  generation ;  that  principles  are  more  lightly 
held  and  direct  party  interests  more  habitually  followed  ;  that 
measures  of  great  and  far-reaching  importance  are  more 
recklessly  launched  for  mere  electioneering  purposes ;  that 
men  to  whom,  in  private  conversation,  not  one  educated  man 
out  of  a  hundred  would  ascribe  any  real  sincerity  or  weight 
of  conviction,  are  playing  a  more  leading  part  in  English 
public  life  ?  I  have  elsewhere  dwelt  on  the  profound  and 
indelible  impression  made  in  the  last  century  by  the 
coalition  between  Fox  and  North.  These  two  able,  honourable, 
and  in  most  respects  patriotic,  politicians,  had  been  fiercely 
divided  on  the  question  of  the  American  War,  and  Fox  had 
used  the  strongest  language  against  his  opponent,  denouncing 
him  as  the  enemy  of  British  freedom,  and  describing  him  as 
worthy  of  death  upon  the  scaffold.  The  American  War 
ceased  ;  the  controversies  it  produced  were  closed,  and  then 
Fox  made  an  alliance  with  North  for  the  purpose  of  keeping 
out  of  office  a  statesman  whom  they  disliked  and  distrusted. 
Nothing  in  the  English  parliamentary  history  of  the 
eighteenth  century  more  profoundly  shocked  the  public 
mind  and  conscience  than  this  transaction,  and  Fox,  at  least, 
never  recovered  the  discredit  which  the  coalition  left  upon 
his  character.  Yet,  after  all,  both  of  these  statesmen  were 
men  undoubtedly  devoted  to  the  interests  of  the  great 
empire  they  ruled,  and  after  the  termination  of  the  American 
War  there  was  no  capital  subject  of  present  difference 
between  them. 

Compare  this  transaction  with  the  alliance  which  gave 
the  Liberal  leaders  eighty-five  Home  Rule  votes  in  1886,  and 
placed  them  in  a  close  bond  of  union  with  the  very  men  whom 


THE   CHANGED   CONSTITUENCIES  189 

they  had  so  lately  denounced  and  imprisoned  for  treason  to 
the  Empire,  and  for  most  deliberately  inciting  to  dishonesty 
and  crime.  Those  who  will  judge  public  men  by  their  acts, 
and  not  by  their  professions,  can  have  little  difficulty  in 
pointing  the  moral. 

Few  persons  will  question  that  this  transaction  would 
have  been  impossible  in  the  Parliaments  before  the  Reform 
Bill  of  1867.  In  the  days  of  middle-class  ascendency 
every  politician  found  it  necessary  to  place  himself  in 
general  harmony  with  average  educated  opinion.  A  very 
slight  shifting  of  that  opinion,  especially  in  the  smaller 
boroughs,  could  be  decisive.  There  was  always  an  ultimate 
court  of  appeal,  which  could  be  relied  on  to  judge  promptly, 
with  shrewdness  and  patriotism,  and  some  real  knowledge  of 
the  facts  of  the  case.  Mere  rhetoric  and  claptrap  ;  brilliant 
talent,  unallied  with  judgment ;  coalitions  to  carry  some 
measure  which  the  country  condemned  by  uniting  it  with 
a  number  of  bribes  offered  to  many  different  classes  ;  policies 
in  which  great  national  interests  were  sacrificed  to  personal 
ambition  or  to  party  tricks  ;  the  dexterity  which  multiplies, 
evades,  or  confuses  issues,  had  seldom  even  a  temporary  suc- 
cess. The  judgment  of  average  educated  men  on  the  whole 
prevailed  ;  and  although  that  judgment  may  not  be  very 
quick  or  far-seeing,  or  open  to  new  ideas,  it  rarely  failed  to 
arrive  at  a  just  estimate  of  a  practical  issue. 

But  the  changes  that  introduced  into  the  constituencies 
a  much  larger  proportion  of  ignorance,  indifference,  or  cre- 
dulity soon  altered  the  conditions  of  politics.  The  element 
of  uncertainty  was  greatly  increased.  Politicians  learned 
to  think  less  of  convincing  the  reason  of  the  country  than 
of  combining  heterogeneous  and  independent  groups,  or 
touching  some  strong  chord  of  widespread  class  interest 
or  prejudice.  The  sense  of  shame  to  a  remarkable  degree 
diminished.  It  would  once  have  been  intolerable  to  an 
English  public  man  to  believe  that,  in  spite  of  all  differ- 
ences of  opinion,  he  was  not  followed  through  life  and  to  the 
grave  by  the  respect  of  the  great  body  of  his  educated  fellow- 
countrymen.       This    sentiment    has    greatly    faded.       Men 


190  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

have  now  become  very  indifferent  to  what  they  would  nick- 
name the  opinion  of  the  classes  or  the  clubs,  provided  they 
can  succeed,  by  the  methods  I  have  described,  in  winning 
a  majority  and  obtaining  power  and  office.  The  party  game 
is  played  more  keenly  and  more  recklessly,  and  traditional 
feelings  as  well  as  traditional  customs  have  greatly  lost 
their  force. 

This  tendency  is  increased  by  the  extreme  rush  and 
hurry  of  modern  life,  which  naturally  produces  some  levity 
of  character.  A  constant  succession  of  new  impressions  and 
ideas  takes  away  from  societies,  as  from  individuals,  the 
power  of  feeling  anything  deeply  and  persistently.  Disgrace 
never  seems  indelible  when  it  is  so  soon  forgotten,  and  the 
strong,  steady  currents  of  national  sentiment  and  tendency, 
on  which  the  greatness  of  empires  depends,  become  impos- 
sible. Continuity  of  policy  is  more  difficult,  and,  with  a  jaded 
political  palate,  the  appetite  for  experiment  and  sensation 
becomes  more  powerful. 

In  the  whole  field  of  politics,  personal  and  class  interests 
seem  to  have  grown  stronger ;  and  the  latter  are  often  not 
even  those  of  a  very  large  class.  The  objects  of  an  ordinary 
trade  strike  have  begun  to  blend  powerfully  with  national 
politics.  In  the  dockyard  towns,  it  has  long  been  said  that 
questions  of  wages,  salaries,  or  employment  dominate  over 
all  others.  There  have  been  instances  in  which  the  political 
votes  of  the  police  force,  of  the  Post-office  officials,  of  the 
Civil  Service  clerks,  have  been  avowedly  marshalled  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  particular  class  advantages.1  In  county 
councils  and  other  small  elective  bodies,  it  is  probable  that 
these  motives  will,  in  England  as  in  America,  be  easily  and 
efficaciously  employed.  When  the  votes  of  a  body  of  men 
in  a  nearly  balanced  contest  may  be  purchased  with  public 
money,  or  at  least  lost  if  public  money  is  withheld,  a  higher 
standard  of  public  virtue  than  is  now  general  is  required  to 
resist  a  mode  of  bribery  which  is  at  once  cheap,  easy,  and 
not  illegal.     A  powerful  trade  union  may  capture  a  small 

1  A  remarkable  paper,  giving  instances  in  which  this  kind  of  pressure  has 
been  employed,  will  be  found  in  the  Times,  October  15,  1892. 


POLITICAL   CRIMES  191 

elected  body,  and  a  weak  government  resting  on  a  fluctuating 
and  a  disintegrated  majority  is  strongly  tempted  to  conciliate 
every  detached  group  of  voters. 

The  reader  must  judge  for  himself  whether  this  picture 
is  untrue  or  overcharged  ;  if  he  believes  it  to  be  true,  he  will 
hardly  question  its  gravity.  The  evil  I  have  described  is 
much  aggravated  by  the  very  inadequate  sense  of  the  crimi- 
nality of  political  misdeeds  that  prevails  widely  in  contem- 
porary thought.  In  the  case  of  those  acts  of  open  violence 
and  treason  which  are  commonly  described  as  political 
crimes,  this  may  be  largely  traced  to  the  time  when  power 
was  in  the  hands  of  a  very  few,  when  religious  liberty,  and 
personal  liberty,  and  liberty  of  expression  were  all  unknown, 
and  when  much  of  the  highest  and  purest  heroism  was  dis- 
played in  resisting  intolerable  oppression.  Much  of  the 
poetic  glamour  which  was  thrown  over  the  revolutionists  of 
those  days  still  remains,  though  in  nearly  all  countries  the 
circumstances  have  wholly  changed.  Under  the  popular 
governments  of  modern  times  revolution  is  nearly  always  a 
crime,  and  usually  a  crime  of  the  first  magnitude.  No  one, 
as  I  have  elsewhere  said,  '  who  has  any  adequate  sense  of 
the  enormous  mass  of  suffering  which  the  authors  of  a 
rebellion  let  loose  upon  their  country  will  speak  lightly  of 
this  crime,  or  of  the  importance  of  penalties  that  may  deter 
others  from  following  in  their  steps.  ...  In  the  great  lottery 
of  civil  war  the  prizes  are  enormous  ;  and  when  such  prizes 
may  be  obtained  by  a  course  of  action  which  is  profoundly 
injurious  to  the  State,  the  deterrent  influence  of  severe 
penalties  is  especially  necessary.  In  the  immense  majority 
of  cases,  the  broad  distinction  which  it  is  now  the  fashion  to 
draw  between  political  and  other  crimes  is  both  pernicious 
and  untrue.  There  is  no  sphere  in  which  the  worst  passions 
of  human  nature  may  operate  more  easily  and  more  danger- 
ously than  in  the  sphere  of  politics.  There  is  no  criminal 
of  a  deeper  dye  than  the  adventurer  who  is  gambling  for 
power  with  the  lives  of  men.  There  are  no  crimes  which 
produce  vaster  or  more  enduring  suffering  than  those  which 
sap  the  great  pillars  of  order  in  the  State,  and  destroy  the 


192  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

respect  for  life,  for  property,  and  for  law  on  which  all  true 
progress  depends.' 

Let  any  one  examine  the  chief  revolutionary  movements 
of  our  time,  and  he  may  soon  convince  himself  that  by  far 
the  greater  number  of  them  have  been  led  by  some  ambitious 
soldier,  or  politician,  or  pretender,  simply  actuated  by  a  desire 
for  wealth  and  power,  by  a  wish  to  defeat  and  overthrow  a 
competitor,  by  overweening  vanity,  or  by  a  mere  love  of 
excitement,  adventure,  and  notoriety.  A  man  who  through 
such  motives  makes  a  revolution  which  destroys  a  multitude 
of  lives,  ruins  the  credit  and  commerce  of  a  nation,  scatters 
far  and  wide  the  seeds  of  anarchy,  disaster  and  long-con- 
tinued depression,  and  perhaps  begins  the  decadence  of  his 
nation,  surely  deserves  a  prompt  and  ignominious  death  as 
much  as  the  man  who,  under  the  influence  of  want,  or 
passion,  or  drink,  has  committed  an  ordinary  murder.  A 
public  opinion  is  very  morbid  which  looks  on  these  things 
as  venial.  It  is  the  custom  in  England  to  assert  that  such 
crimes  as  the  murders  in  the  Phoenix  Park,  or  the  massacre 
or  attempted  massacre  by  an  Anarchist's  bomb  of  a  number 
of  innocent  persons  in  some  place  of  public  amusement,  are 
not '  political.'  It  does  not  appear  to  me  reasonable  to  deny 
this  character  to  acts  which  were  inspired  by  no  motive  of 
private  gain  or  malice,  and  were  directly  and  exclusively 
intended  to  produce  political  ends.  But  the  fact  that  they 
were  political  does  not  attenuate  their  atrocity,  nor  ought 
it  to  mitigate  the  punishment  of  the  criminal. 

In  home  affairs,  while  the  widest  toleration  should  be 
accorded  to  all  honest  diversities  of  opinion  and  policy, 
there  are  courses  of  conduct  which  involve  the  deepest 
turpitude,  and  which,  at  the  same  time,  bring  with  them  no 
legal  penalties,  and  can  only  be  restrained  and  punished  by 
opinion.  If  a  man,  for  the  mere  purpose  of  winning  votes, 
seeks  to  plunge  his  country  into  an  unrighteous  or  un- 
necessary war,  or  to  prolong  a  war  which  might  be  terminated 
with  honour ;  to  set  class  against  class  and  deepen  the 
lines  of  division  and  animosity ;  to  place  the  power  of 
government  in  the  hands  of  dishonest  or  disloyal  men,  and 


POLITICAL   MORALITY  1 93 

assist  them  in  carrying  out  their  designs  ;  if  for  the  sake  of 
an  office,  or  a  pension,  or  a  peerage,  he  supports  a  policy 
which  he  knows  to  be  unrighteous  or  unwise,  he  is  certainly 
committing  a  moral  offence  of  the  deepest  dye.  Judgments 
which  relate  to  motives  are,  no  doubt,  always  uncertain,  and 
ample  allowance  should  be  made  for  the  eccentricities  of 
honest  opinion.  A  course  which  seems  to  most  men  very 
iniquitous  may  appear  to  some  men  positively  good,  or  the 
lesser  of  two  evils,  or  the  necessary  fulfilment  of  an  old 
engagement,  or  an  inevitable  result  of  preceding  policy.  Yet 
still  public  opinion  can,  with  a  rough  but  substantial  justice, 
estimate  the  characters  and  the  motives  of  public  men,  and 
it  is  a  very  evil  sign  when  it  looks  without  serious  reproba- 
tion on  those  whom  it  believes  to  be  acting  without  convic- 
tions ;  to  be  playing  with  great  national  interests  for  party 
or  personal  ends,  as  if  they  were  cards  in  a  game  or  horses  in 
a  race. 

This  consideration  is  quite  compatible  with  the  fact  that 
men  acting  in  parties  are  frequently  obliged,  on  public 
grounds,  to  subordinate  their  own  judgment  on  minor  ques- 
tions to  that  of  their  party.  They  are  often  confronted  with 
the  question  whether  supporting  a  bad  measure  is  not  a  less 
evil  than  displacing  a  good  government  or  breaking  up  or 
enfeebling  a  useful  organisation,  and  they  are  often  obliged 
to  vote  for  or  against  one  measure  with  a  view  to  carrying 
or  defeating  a  totally  different  one.  They  must  look  to  the 
whole  results  of  their  conduct,  ulterior  as  well  as  proximate. 
In  France,  a  large  number  of  the  best  men  of  our  century 
have  Successively  supported  more  than  one  dynasty  and  re- 
public, and  they  were  not  wrong  in  doing  so.  Though  they 
preferred  one  or  other  form  of  government,  they  considered 
that  the  evils  of  instability  and  revolution  were  so  great 
that  it  was  the  part  of  a  patriotic  man  to  strengthen  the 
existing  form,  if  it  was  only  a  tolerable  one,  and  endeavour  to 
graft  upon  it  the  best  characteristics  of  the  other  forms. 

In  party  parliamentary  government,  questions  of  ethics  of 
a  much  more  perplexing  character  continually  arise.     Some 
men  differ  from  the  dominant  tendencies  of  their  party,  but 
vol.  1.  o 


194  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

not  so  strongly  or  universally  as  to  induce  them  to  break 
formally  the  ties  of  long-standing  engagements  ;  or  they  re- 
main in  it  because  they  believe  that  it  would  be  a  great  public 
calamity  if  it  were  deprived  of  its  moderating  element,  and 
thrown  altogether  into  the  hands  of  extreme  men.  Usually, 
while  the  extremes  of  rival  parties  differ  widely,  there  is  a 
frontier  line  where  the  two  parties  almost  blend.  Some- 
times, as  in  the  latter  days  of  Lord  Palmerston's  life,  the 
lines  of  party  have  been  so  faintly  drawn  that  a  rising  poli- 
tician might  very  reasonably  consider  it  a  matter  of  great 
indifference  to  which  party  he  attached  himself.  At  other 
times  parties  are  deeply  sundered  by  questions  vitally  affect- 
ing the  wellbeing  of  the  nation.  In  practical  politics  there 
must  always  be  much  compromise  and  mutual  concession  ; 
and,  as  Hallam  long  since  said,  the  centrifugal  and  the 
centripetal  forces,  which  correspond  roughly  to  the  rival  party 
tendencies,  are  both  needed  to  preserve  the  due  balance  of 
affairs.  There  are  great  evils,  as  well  as  great  advantages, 
attending  the  party  system,  and  there  are  periods  when  these 
evils  seem  brought  into  a  more  than  common  prominence. 

All  this,  however,  is  clearly  distinct  from  the  conduct  of 
a  politician  who,  in  matters  of  grave  national  concern,  re- 
gulates his  actions  with  an  exclusive  view  to  his  own  inte- 
rests. In  English  opinion,  very  glaring  instances  of  political 
profligacy  are  distinguished  broadly  from  acts  of  private  and 
personal  dishonesty,  such  as  malversation  in  the  administra- 
tion of  public  funds.  But  the  distinction  is,  in  truth,  an 
unreal  one,  and  it  is  not  likely  to  last.  A  man  who  remains 
in  a  party  which  he  would  otherwise  have  abandoned,  or 
votes  for  some  important  measure  which  he  would  have 
■otherwise  opposed,  because  he  has  been  bought  by  the  offer 
•of  a  peerage  or  a  place,  would  probably  be  incapable  of 
swindling  and  cheating  at  cards,  but  his  conduct  is  not 
really  less  dishonourable.  The  false  trustee  to  the  public 
will  easily,  under  sufficient  temptation,  turn  into  the  fraudu- 
lent bankrupt,  and  a  public  opinion  which  is  lax  and  indul- 
gent in  dealing  with  one  form  of  dishonesty  will  soon  learn 
to  look  with  toleration  on  the  other.     The   same  type  of 


POLITICAL   MORALITY 


195 


character  which  produces  the  unscrupulous  professional 
politician  produces  also  the  too  familiar  fraudulent  director. 
We  need  not  look  beyond  the  Atlantic  for  examples. 

There  is  hardly  any  field,  indeed,  in  which  moral  notions 
are  more  confused  and  inconsistent  than  in  politics.  Let 
any  one,  for  example,  read  the  report  of  the  judgment  of  the 
Parnell  Commission,  and  the  sworn  testimony  on  which  it 
was  based,  and  let  him  then  remember  that  the  men  who 
were  distinctly  proved  to  have  organised,  encouraged,  stimu- 
lated, and  profited  by  all  the  violence,  fraud,  intimidation, 
and  crime  that  is  there  recorded  received  the  support  of  the 
great  body  of  the  Catholic  priests  in  Ireland,  and  of  the  great 
body  of  Nonconformist  ministers  in  England.  There  were, 
it  is  true,  noble  exceptions.  The  names  that  had  most 
weight  in  the  Nonconformity  of  our  time — the  names  of 
Spurgeon,  and  Fraser,  and  Allon,  and  Dale — stand  in  this 
respect  beyond  reproach.  But  the  majority  of  the  English 
and  Welsh  Nonconformists  took  a  different  course,  and  their 
ministers  have  in  the  present  generation  been  ardent  poli- 
ticians, prominent  on  the  platform,  and  not  unfrequently 
introducing  their  politics  into  the  pulpit.  They  were, 
apparently,  entirely  unmoved  by  the  judicial  inquiry  which 
proved  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt  the  complicity  of  the 
men  they  supported  with  crime.  The  boycotting,  the  Plan 
of  Campaign,  the  incendiary  speeches,  the  open  advocacy 
of  public  plunder,  the  connection  with  American  dynamiters, 
the  concealed  accounts,  the  many  instances  of  hideous  cruelty 
and  oppression  of  the  weak  that  were  distinctly  traceable  to 
the  Irish  Land  League,  all  left  these  religious  teachers  com- 
pletely undisturbed.  These  things  were  regarded  as  merely 
'  political.'  At  last,  however,  it  was  shown  that  the  prime 
mover  of  the  Irish  agitation  had  been  guilty  of  adultery.  It 
was  a  very  ordinary  case,  without  much  special  aggravation, 
and  such  as  might  be  found  in  almost  every  newspaper. 
Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  Nonconformist  conscience  was 
aroused.  It  was  intolerable  that  a  truly  religious  party 
should  be  in  alliance  with  a  politician  guilty  of  such  an  act ; 
and  the  explosion  of  moral  indignation,  which  began  in  the 

o  2 


196  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Nonconformist  ranks,  soon  shook  the  land,  and  detached  by 
successive  impacts  the  Prime  Minister,  the  Irish  bishops,  and 
most  of  the  Irish  members  from  their  old  connection.  Can 
those  who  witnessed  this  grotesque  exhibition  wonder  at  the 
charge  of  Pharisaism  and  hypocrisy  which  foreign  observers 
so  abundantly  bring  against  English  public  opinion  ?  Can 
they  be  surprised  that  '  the  Nonconformist  conscience '  is 
rapidly  becoming  a  byword  in  England,  much  like  the  '  moral 
sentiments  '  of  Joseph  Surface  ? 

My  readers  will  not,  I  hope,  so  far  misunderstand  these 
remarks  as  to  attribute  to  me  any  indifference  to  the  private 
morals  of  public  men.  The  example  of  men  who  hold  a  high 
and  responsible  position  before  the  world  exercises  a  more 
than  common  influence,  and  it  is  therefore  specially  desirable 
that  they  should  be  men  of  untarnished  honour  and  blame- 
less lives.  There  have  been  instances  of  men  of  very  lax 
domestic  morals  who  have  been  excellent  politicians,  and  of 
men  of  exemplary  private  characters  who  have  in  Parliament 
been  unprincipled  and  corrupt  ;  but  still  private  virtue  is 
at  least  some  guarantee  for  the  right  performance  of  public 
duty ;  while  a  man  who  has  lost  his  position  in  the  world 
through  a  great  moral  scandal  would  be  almost  more  than 
human  if  he  did  not  subordinate  all  political  convictions  and 
public  interests  to  regaining  it.  But,  after  all,  it  is  not 
the  private  vices  of  public  men  that  are  most  dangerous  to 
.the  community.  It  may  be  a  curious  question  of  casuistry 
whether  it  is  a  more  immoral  thing  to  commit  adultery,  or 
to  incite  to  intimidation  which  leads  to  crime  and  outrage, 
persisting  in  it  'with  knowledge  of  its  effect.'1  There  can, 
at  least,  be  no  doubt  which  of  these  two  acts  is  more  injurious 
to  the  State. 

The  maintenance  of  a  high  standard  of  right  and  wrong 
in  the  field  of  politics  is  certainly  one  of  the  first  of  national 
interests,  and  it  becomes  increasingly  difficult  with  the 
democratic  tendency  to  throw  public  affairs  more  and  more 
into  the  hands  of  professional  politicians.  To  other  classes' 
the  House  of  Commons  has  lost  much  of  its  old  attraction. 
1  Special  Commission  Beport,  pp.  88,  92. 


ELECTIVE  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT  1 97 

The  extraordinary  prolongation  of  its  sessions ;  the  growth 
of  mere  obstruction  in  its  debates ;  the  increased  prominence 
of  parliamentary  manoeuvre,  requiring  a  more  incessant 
attendance  ;  the  vast  amount  of  stump  oratory,  and  other 
wearisome  work,  which  is  now  expected  both  from  a  candi- 
date and  a  member,  are  making  public  life  far  more  burden- 
some than  in  the  past,  and  are  gradually  alienating  from  it 
men  who  have  no  strong  personal  object  to  gain.  The 
influence's  that  have  begun  to  dominate  at  elections  neither 
attract  nor  favour  the  best  men.  Such  men  will  not  readily 
consent  to  be  mere  delegates  or  puppets  of  a  caucus,  and 
they  are  not  likely  to  be  skilful  in  conciliating  by  vague 
promises  groups  of  impracticable  theorists,  and  in  employing 
the  language  of  class  bribery. 

The  withdrawal  of  nearly  all  forms  of  local  government 
from  magistrates  and  from  nominated  bodies,  and  the  great 
multiplicity  of  elected  and  democratic  bodies,  tend  in  the 
same  direction.  In  the  cases — happily,  in  the  present  cen- 
tury, very  rare  in  England — in  which  public  funds  were 
corruptly  administered  for  the  benefit  of  the  few,  the  intro- 
duction of  the  elective  system  on  a  broad  basis  may  be  a 
valuable  corrective,  though  no  one  would  maintain  that  local 
administration  is,  on  the  whole,  purer  in  America  than  it  has 
long  been  in  England.  It  is  contended,  however,  with  justice, 
in  favour  of  the  elective  system  that  it  forms  one  of  the  best 
schools  or  training-grounds  for  the  politician  ;  that  it  gives 
an  intelligent  interest  in  public  affairs  to  multitudes  who 
had  long  been  very  indifferent  to  them  ;  that  it  furnishes  a 
security  that  the  wants  of  all  classes  should  be  brought  to 
light,  and  at  least  discussed ;  and  that  it  infuses  a  new 
strength  and  energy  into  local  administration. 

All  this  is,  I  believe,  very  true,  and  very  important.  At 
the  same  time  there  are  manifest  and  serious  drawbacks. 
One  of  them  is  increased  expense,  which  nearly  always 
follows  when  a  nominated  or  magisterial  body  is  replaced 
by  a  democratic  elected  one ;  another  is  a  great  multipli- 
cation of  antagonisms  and  dissensions.  In  many  quiet 
country  parishes,  where  Churchmen  and  Dissenters,  Liberals 


198  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  Conservatives,  long  lived  in  almost  perfect  amity,  social 
fissures  are  now  deepening,  and  constantly  recurring  elections 
are  keeping  up  a  permanent  fever  of  contention.  The  elec- 
tions for  the  school  board,  for  the  county  council,  for  the 
parish  council,  the  parliamentary  elections,  which  now  imply 
constant  party  meetings  extending  through  the  greater  part 
of  the  session,  are  ranging  the  different  parties  more  and 
more  in  hostile  committees  and  opposing  platforms,  and 
whatever  good  may  result  is  certainly  produced  by  a  great 
deal  of  ill-feeling  and  discomfort.  Nothing,  too,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  is  more  clearly  established  by  American 
experience  than  that  very  frequent  contested  elections 
tend  to  lower  the  moral  tone  of  politics,  and  to  throw 
them  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  the  professional 
politician. 

It  would,  I  believe,  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  under 
the  new  conditions  wealth  will  disappear,  or  even  exercise  a 
greatly  diminished  power  in  politics,  but  the  rich  men  who 
will  chiefly  enter  Parliament  are  not  the  kind  who  are  most 
desirable.  Three  classes  appear  to  have  an  increasing 
prominence.  There  are  those  who,  having  amassed  large 
fortunes  in  trade,  commerce,  or  manufacture,  desire  above 
all  things  social  position,  and  are  prepared  to  sacrifice  large - 
sums  to  attain  it.  The  social  precedence  which  a  seat  in 
Parliament  affords,  and  the  possibilities  of  rank  which  are 
open  to  every  rich  man  who  steadily  supports  his  party, 
become  their  guiding  motives,  and  very  often  shape  the 
whole  course  of  their  political  calculations.  There  are  also 
prosperous  lawyers  who  enter  Parliament  for  professional 
objects,  knowing  that  it  is  the  path  which  leads  directly  to 
the  chief  honours  in  their  profession ;  and  there  is  the  large 
class  of  business  men  connected  with  public  companies,  who 
find  a  political  position  useful  to  their  financial  enterprises. 
The  increasing  number  of  directors  in  Parliament,  and  the 
desire  of  companies  to  have  members  of  Parliament  for 
their  directors,  are  significant  signs,  not,  I  think,  of  good 
omen  for  the  purity  of  politics.  As  State  functions  multiply, 
including  many  things  that  were  once  left  to  private  com- 


DEMOCRATIC  TENDENCIES  1 99 

mercial  enterprise,  the  position  of  member  of  Parliament  is 
likely  to  have  an  increasing  value  in  the  fields  of  patronage, 
industry,  and  finance.  Men  of  these  different  classes  are  often 
among  the  most  dangerous  of  demagogues.  Private  aims 
predominate  with  them  over  public  ones.  If  they  can  attain 
them,  they  care  little  for  a  large  expenditure  or  sacrifice 
of  money,  and  their  special  interests  are  usually  only  very 
slightly  identified  with  the  permanent  interests  of  the  country. 

Two  or  three  measures  which  are  much  advocated  would 
confirm  the  power  of  the  professional  politician.  I  have 
already  spoken  of  the  abolition  of  university  representation. 
It  is  not  a  measure  which  would  have  very  extensive  con- 
sequences, but  it  would  at  least  expel  from  Parliament  a 
small  class  of  members  who  represent  in  an  eminent  degree 
intelligence  and  knowledge  diffused  throughout  the  country  ; 
who,  from  the  manner  of  their  election,  are  almost  certain 
to  be  men  of  political  purity  and  independent  character, 
and  who,  for  that  very  reason,  are  especially  obnoxious  to 
the  more  unscrupulous  type  of  demagogue.  Their  expulsion 
would  be  a  considerable  party  advantage  to  one  faction  in 
the  State,  and  it  is  therefore  likely  to  be  steadily  pursued. 

A  more  considerable  measure  would  be  that  of  throwing 
the  whole  or  a  large  part  of  the  expenses  of  elections  on 
the  rates.  There  is  much  to  be  said  in  its  defence.  It  is 
not  a  natural  thing  that  men  should  be  expected  to  pay 
largely  for  discharging  what  should  be  a  public  duty,  for  ren- 
dering what  should  be  a  public  service.  Payment  from  the 
rates  would  render  it  much  easier  for  men  of  moderate  fortunes 
to  enter  the  House,  and  it  would  very  possibly  diminish  the 
appetite  for  place,  or  for  the  less  legitimate  forms  of  gain, 
which  are  often  sought  merely  for  the  purpose  of  recovering 
an  expenditure  already  made.  Men  who  have  paid  much  for 
a  position  easily  persuade  themselves  that  it  is  legitimate  to 
make  profit  out  of  it,  and  to  regard  their  expenditure  as  an 
investment.  But,  unless  payment  from  public  sources  were 
restricted  to  candidates  who  obtained  a  considerable  amount 
of  support  at  the  poll,  it  would  multiply  useless  and  mischie- 
vous contests,   and,   like  the  payment  of  members,   which 


200  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

would  probably  follow  it,  besides  adding  largely  to  the  cost 
of  government,  it  would  greatly  smooth  the  path  of  the 
professional  agitator  or  wirepuller. 

The  reader  will,  I  hope,  understand  that  in  the  foregoing 
remarks  I  am  describing  tendencies  which  appear  to  me  to 
be  in  operation  and  not  fully  accomplished  facts.  It  would 
take  a  long  time,  and  many  disastrous  revolutions,  to  break 
down  the  firm  texture  of  English  political  life.  The  old 
feelings  of  traditional  reverence  ;  the  long-established  or- 
ganisations of  property  and  class  and  corporate  existence ; 
the  shrewdness  and  sobriety  of  judgment,  and,  above  all,  the 
sound  moral  feeling  which  a  long  and  noble  history  has 
implanted  in  all  classes  of  the  British  people,  have  not  dis- 
appeared, though  power  is  passing  mainly  into  the  hands  of 
the  most  uninstructed,  and  therefore  least  intelligent,  classes, 
and  though  low  motives  are  in  consequence  acquiring  a 
greater  prominence  in  English  politics.  Still,  there  have  been 
encouraging  signs  that  a  politician  who  is  ready  to  sacrifice 
his  character  in  order  to  win  power  or  popularity  may  make 
the  sacrifice  without  obtaining  the  reward.  Manufactured 
and  organised  agitations  ;  ingenious  combinations  of  hetero- 
geneous elements ;  skilful  attempts  to  win  votes  by  dis- 
tributing class  bribes  or  inflaming  class  or  national  animo- 
sities, have  not  always  proved  successful.  The  deliberate 
judgment  of  the  constituencies  on  a  great  question  which 
strongly  arouses  national  feeling  will,  I  believe,  seldom  be 
wrong,  though  there  is  an  increased  danger  that  they  may 
be  for  a  time  misled,  and  that  such  influences  as  I  have 
described  may  obtain  a  temporary  ascendency  in  the  House 
of  Commons. 

The  high  standard,  both  of  professional  honour  and  of 
competence,  that  has  long  prevailed  in  our  permanent 
services  is  certainly  unimpaired,  and,  in  days  when  parlia- 
mentary government  is  in  its  decadence,  the  importance 
to  national  wellbeing  of  a  good  permanent  service  can 
hardly  be  overrated.  Parliament  itself,  though  it  shows 
many  evil  signs,  has  escaped  some  which  may  be  detected  in 
other  legislatures.     It  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate  the 


COMPETITIVE   EXAMINATIONS  201 

value  of  the  standing  order  which  provides  that  the  House 
of  Commons  shall  make  no  money  grant  except  at  the 
initiative  of  the  responsible  Ministers  of  the  Crown.  Pro- 
bably no  other  provision  has  done  so  much  to  check  ex- 
travagance and  to  place  a  bound  to  that  bribery  by 
legislation  which  is  one  of  the  distinctive  dangers  of 
democracy ;  and  the  absence  of  such  a  rule  has  been  justly 
described  as  one  of  the  great  sources  of  the  corruption  and 
extravagance  of  French  finance.  The  Committee  system 
also,  which  seems  likely  to  become  in  England,  as  it  has 
already  become  in  America,  the  most  important  thing  in 
parliamentary  government,  is  still  essentially  sound.  The 
House  of  Commons  as  a  whole  is  becoming  so  unfit  for  the 
transaction  of  the  details  of  business  that  it  will  probably 
more  and  more  delegate  its  functions  to  Committees;  and 
these  Committees  submit  great  questions  to  a  thorough 
examination,  bring  together  the  most  competent  practical 
judges  and  the  best  available  information,  weaken  the  force 
of  party,  and  infuse  into  legislation  something,  at  least,  of  a 
judicial  spirit. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  great  political  value  of  the 
competitive  system  of  examination  as  applied  to  the  public 
services.  It  has  undoubtedly  many  and  grievous  drawbacks, 
and  few  good  judges  will  deny  that  examinations  have  been 
overdone  in  England,  and  that  in  these  examinations  mere 
book  knowledge  has  been  too  prominent.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
there  has  been  an  almost  grotesque  dissimilarity  between  the 
character  of  the  examination  and  the  career  to  which  it 
leads ;  as,  for  example,  when  questions  about  Spenser's 
'  Faerie  Queene,'  or  about  English  parliamentary  history,  or 
about  classical  literature,  are  said  to  have  turned  the  scale  for 
or  against  a  candidate  who  is  examined  for  the  army.  Many 
of  the  qualities  that  are  most  useful  in  the  administration  of 
affairs  and  the  management  of  men  can  be  neither  given 
nor  tested  by  examination.  Tact,  knowledge  of  men,  sound 
judgment,  promptitude  and  resolution  in  times  of  danger, 
and  that  charm  of  manner  which  adds  so  much,  especially 
in   Eastern   nations,  to  the   success    of  administrations,  lie 


202  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

wholly  beyond  the  range  of  the  examination  hall.  There 
are  positions  in  life  in  which  the  wild,  idle,  high-spirited 
boy,  whose  natural  bent  is  all  to  sport  and  to  adventure,  but 
who  is  utterly  without  the  turn  of  mind  or  character  that 
triumphs  in  examinations,  is  more  likely  to  succeed  than  the 
plodding,  industrious  boy  who  will  win  the  prize.  The 
competitive  system  is  in  theory  a  very  democratical  one, 
but,  like  many  democratic  measures,  it  does  not  altogether 
fulfil  its  promise.  It  is  a  system  which  gives  a  wholly 
disproportionate  share  of  the  world's  goods  to  a  small 
minority  who  are  endowed  with  a  particular  kind  of  capa- 
city. It  is  a  system  also  in  which  money  plays  a  great  part, 
for  it  has  become  all  but  impossible  for  boys  to  succeed  in 
the  most  keenly  contested  examinations  unless  they  have 
had  the  advantage  of  special  and  expensive  teaching.  It  is 
curious  to  observe  how  often,  under  the  old  aristocratic 
system  of  patronage,  a  poor  man  gained  a  place  on  the  ladder 
of  promotion  which  he  could  not  have  reached  under  the 
present  system.  An  officer  who,  like  so  many  of  his  pro- 
fession, found  himself  towards  the  close  of  a  useful  and 
honourable  life  with  only  a  very  humble  competence,  could, 
under  the  old  system,  always  obtain  for  his  son  a  commis- 
sion without  purchase  in  the  army.  His  son  must  now 
enter  by  an  examination,  and  he  will  hardly  succeed  unless 
the  father  is  able  to  give  him  the  advantage  of  an  ex- 
perienced crammer. 

In  India  the  competitive  system  may  prove  a  serious 
danger.  In  that  country  the  nimbleness  of  mind  and 
tongue  which  succeeds  in  examinations  is,  to  a  degree  quite 
unknown  in  ,Europe,  separated  from  martial  courage,  and 
from  the  strength  of  nerve  and  character  that  wins  the 
respect  of  great  masses,  and  marks  out  the  rulers  of  men. 
In  the  opinion  of  the  best  judges,  a  system  which  would 
bring  to  the  forefront  the  weak,  effeminate  Bengalese,  to 
the  detriment  of  the  old  governing  races  of  India  and  of  the 
strong,  warlike  populations  of  the  North,  would  be  the  sure 
precursor  of  a  catastrophe. 

But,  with  all  its  drawbacks,  the  competitive  system  has 


POLITICS   AND   NATIONAL    CHARACTER  203 

been,  I  think,  in  England  a  great  blessing,  and  the  disad- 
vantages that  attend  it  have  been  mitigated  by  more  in- 
telligent kinds  of  examination  and  by  a  judicious  mixture  of 
patronage  and  competition,  which  gives  some  power  of 
selection  to  men  in  responsible  positions.  The  competitive 
system  realises,  on  the  whole,  more  perfectly  than  any  other 
that  has  been  yet  devised  the  ideal  of  the  Revolution  :  '  La 
carrier e  ouverte  aux  talents.'  If  patronage  were  always 
exercised  with  perfect  wisdom  and  public  spirit,  it  would, 
no  doubt,  bring  forward  better  men,  but  there  is  no  real 
reason  to  believe  that  the  class  who,  in  Great  Britain,  are  pro- 
duced by  the  competitive  system  are,  on  the  whole,  at  all 
inferior  to  their  predecessors.  At  the  same  timo,  its 
value  in  keeping  the  public  services  pure  from  corruption 
can  hardly  be  overstated.  It  is  the  one  real  protection 
against  the  complete  dominance  of  the  '  spoils  system,'  and 
it  is  a  protection  which  is  likely  to  last.  In  a  democratic 
age  it  is  very  difficult  to  correct  democratic  evils  except  by 
democratic  remedies.  It  would  be  impossible  to  measure 
the  corruption  which  would  ensue  if  all  the  powers  of 
patronage  and  nomination  that  were  once  in  the  hands  of 
governments  and  aristocracies  were  placed  in  the  hands  of 
popular  bodies,  to  be  scrambled  for  by  professional  politicians 
or  used  as  bribes  by  contending  factions. 

It  is  a  truth  which  is  not  sufficiently  recognised,  that 
the  general  character  of  a  nation  cannot  always  be  fairly 
judged  by  the  character  of  its  public  men  or  of  its  political 
actions.  In  a  really  sound  representative  system  this  remark 
would  not  apply.  One  of  the  truest  tests  of  a  good  constitu- 
tion is,  that  it  brings  into  habitual  political  action  the  best 
characteristics  of  the  nation.  But  in  the  extremes  both  of 
despotism  and  of  democracy  political  action  is  often  a 
strangely  deceptive  guide  to  national  character.  Govern- 
ments sometimes  pursue  a  constantly  aggressive,  military, 
and  violent  policy,  simply  because  power  is  in  the  hands  of 
a  small  class,  and  because  the  bulk  of  the  nation  are  so  mild, 
peaceful,  and  loyal  that  they  can  be  easily  led.  In  demo- 
cracies, as  America  has  abundantly  shown,  politics  may  be 


204  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

an  equally  faithless  mirror  of  the  best  side  of  the  national 
character.  The  politics  of  a  nation  and  the  character  of  its 
public  men  may  deteriorate,  not  because  the  aggregate 
intelligence  or  virtue  of  the  nation  has  diminished,  but 
simply  because  the  governing  power  has  descended  to  classes 
who  are  less  intelligent,  less  scrupulous,  or  more  easily 
deceived. 

If  it  be  true — as  there  seems  great  reason  to  believe — 
that  parliamentary  government  in  England  has  entered  on 
its  period  of  decadence,  it  becomes  a  question  of  the  highest 
importance  to  ascertain  whether  this  implies  a  general 
decadence  in  the  national  character.  I  do  not  myself  believe 
it.  It  appears  to  me  hardly  possible  to  compare  the  present 
generation  of  Englishmen  with  the  generation  of  our  grand- 
fathers and  great-grandfathers  without  believing  that,  on  the 
whole,  English  character  has  improved.  The  statistics  of 
crime  are,  no  doubt,  in  this  respect  an  imperfect  test,  for  the 
criminal  class  always  forms  only  a  small  section  of  the  com- 
munity, and  an  increase  or  diminution  of  actual  criminal 
offences  often  depends  upon  circumstances  that  are  only 
very  slightly  connected  with  the  average  morals  of  the 
community.  As  far,  however,  as  this  test  goes,  it  is  emi- 
nently satisfactory,  for  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  most 
forms  of  grave  crime,  in  proportion  to  population,  have,  in 
the  present  generation,  greatly  diminished.  Nor  is  this 
surprising,  for  no  feature  of  our  century  is  more  remarkable 
than  the  skill  with  which,  by  reformatories  and  industrial 
and  other  schools,  by  factory  laws,  by  the  diminution  of 
insanitary  dwellings,  and  by  the  better  regulation  of  the 
drink  traffic,  modern  philanthropy  has  succeeded  in  restrict- 
ing or  purifying  the  chief  sources  of  national  crime.  As  a 
single  illustration  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place,  I  may 
mention  that  in  1834  it  was  officially  stated  in  Parliament 
that  not  less  than  one-fifth  of  the  army  stationed  in  England 
had,  in  the  two  preceding  years,  passed  through  the  common 
gaols.1  The  great  diminution  of  ordinary  crime  in  England 
is  especially  remarkable,  because  both  in  France  and  in  the 
1  Hansard,  xxv.  281. 


SIGNS   OF   IMPROVEMENT  205 

United  States  there  has  been,  in  the  present  generation,  a 
great  and  a  deplorable  increase. 

Not  less  conspicuous  is  the  improvement  that  has  taken 
place  in  the  decorum,  civilisation,  and  humanity  of  the 
bulk  of  the  poor  ;  in  the  character  of  their  tastes  and 
pleasures  ;  in  their  enlarged  circle  of  interests  ;  in  the  spirit 
of  providence  which,  under  the  influence  of  savings  banks 
and  kindred  institutions,  has  arisen  among  them.  The  skilled 
artisans  in  our  great  towns,  within  the  memory  of  living  men, 
have  become,  not  only  the  most  energetic,  but  also  one  of  the 
most  intelligent  and  orderly  elements,  in  English  life.  No  one 
who  has  come  into  close  contact  with  their  political  organi- 
sations, or  trade  unions,  or  mechanics'  institutes,  or  free 
libraries,  or  who  has  watched  the  working-class  audience  of 
some  great  scientific  lecturer,  will  deem  this  an  exaggeration. 
The  spirit  of  humanity  has  immensely  increased,  both  in  the 
form  that  shrinks  from  the  infliction  of  suffering  and  in 
the  form  that  seeks  out  suffering  in  order  to  alleviate  it. 
Churches  and  creeds  will  come  and  go  ;  but  the  best  index 
of  the  moral  level  of  a  community  is  to  be  found  in  the 
amount  of  unselfish  action  that  is  generated  within  it.  I  do 
not  believe  that  there  has  ever  been  a  period  in  England,  or 
in  any  other  country,  when  more  time,  thought,  money,  and 
labour  were  bestowed  on  the  alleviation  of  suffering,  or  in 
which  a  larger  number  of  men  and  women  of  all  classes 
threw  themselves  more  earnestly  and  more  habitually  into 
unselfish  causes.  Both  within  and  without  the  Church  the 
passion  for  social  reform  and  philanthropic  action  has,  to  a 
large  extent,  displaced  theological  enthusiasm  ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  the  increased  activity  of  the  Established  Church 
is  very  apparent,  the  standard  of  duty  among  its  clergy  is 
appreciably  raised,  and  its  patronage  is  administered  in  a  far 
better  and  purer  spirit  than  in  the  past. 

All  this  is,  no  doubt,  compatible  with  the  growth  of  some 
special  forms  of  vice.  It  may  perhaps  be  compatible  with  a 
decline  of  those  stronger  and  more  robust  qualities  that 
chiefly  lead  to  political  greatness.  Whether  in  this  last  field 
there  has  been  any  decadence  in  England  is  a  question  on 


206  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

which  it  is  difficult  to  pronounce.  The  last  occasion  in 
which  England  was  engaged  in  a  life-and-death  struggle 
against  overwhelming  odds  was  in  the  Indian  Mutiny  ;  and, 
in  that  now  distant  crisis,  it  must  be  owned  that  there  was 
no  failing  in  the  stronger,  fiercer,  and  more  tenacious  qualities 
that  have  made  England  what  she  is.  Amid  all  the  much- 
obtruded  sentimentalisms  of  our  time  there  are  indications 
that  the  fibre  of  the  race  is  still  unimpaired.  The  old  love 
of  manly  sports  was  never  more  abundantly  displayed  ;  in 
the  great  fields  of  adventure  and  discovery,  in  the  forms  of 
commercial  and  industrial  enterprise  that  most  tax  the 
energies  and  resources  of  men,  modern  Englishmen  bear 
their  full  part,  and  no  other  people  are  doing  so  much  to 
explore,  subdue,  and  civilise  far-distant  and  savage  lands. 

Have  their  governing  qualities  declined  ?  Have  the 
Englishmen  of  our  day  learnt  to  prefer  words  to  things  and 
plausibilities  to  facts,  and  men  who  are  cunning  in  the  arts 
of  parliamentary  fence  and  political  manoeuvre  to  men  of 
wise  judgment  and  solid  character  ?  Carlyle  believed  that 
they  had,  and  there  have  been  symptoms  in  these  later  days 
that  support  his  opinion.  I  believe,  however,  that  they  will 
nearly  all  be  found  in  close  connection  with  the  influence 
of  a  democratic  Parliament.  When  Englishmen  escape 
from  its  interference  and  its  contagion,  their  old  high 
governing  qualities  seldom  fail  to  shine.  No  piece  of  more 
skilful,  successful,  and  beneficent  administration  has  been 
accomplished  in  our  day,  under  circumstances  of  great  diffi- 
culty, than  the  English  administration  of  Egypt,  and  no 
achievement  of  secular  government  since  the  Roman  Empire 
can  compare  in  its  magnitude  and  splendour  with  the  British 
Empire  in  India.  The  men  who  built  up  that  gigantic 
empire,  who  have  maintained  for  so  many  generations  and 
over  so  vast  an  area  peace  and  prosperity  and  order,  who 
have  put  a  stop  to  so  many  savage  wars  and  eradicated  so 
many  cruel  customs,  are  the  statesmen  of  whom  England 
should  be  most  proud.  There  is  no  sign  that  they  have  lost 
their  cunning  ;  and  if  such  men  and  such  modes  of  govern- 
ment  could  have   been  employed    nearer   home,  many  old 


INDIAN   GOVERNMENT  20y 

injustices  and  discontents  would  have  long  since  passed 
away. 

He  would  be  a  sanguine  man  who  ventured  to  predict  with 
confidence  the  long,  duration  of  this  supreme  monument  of  the 
genius  and  the  character  of  our  race  ;  but  most  good  judges 
will  agree  that  the  great  danger  that  menaces  it  is  to  be 
found  neither  at  Calcutta  nor  at  St.  Petersburg,  but  at  West- 
minster. It  is  to  be  found  in  combinations  of  fanaticism  with 
intrigue  that  are  peculiarly  dangerous  in  a  country  ruled  by 
feeble  governments,  and  disintegrated  parliaments,  and  igno- 
rant constituencies  ;  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  introduction  into 
India  of  modes  and  maxims  of  government  borrowed  from 
modern  European  democracies,  and  utterly  unsuited  to  an 
Oriental  people ;  it  is  to  be  found  in  acts  of  injustice  per- 
petrated by  Parliament  in  obedience  to  party  motives  and 
to  the  pressure  of  local  interests.  Two  shameful  instances 
of  this  kind  are  very  recent.  The  Commission  sent  out  to 
India  to  inquire  into  the  opium  traffic  in  1893  was  wholly 
due  to  the  action  in  the  House  of  Commons  of  a  little  knot 
of  fanatics  and  agitators  in  England,  unprompted  by  any 
voice  in  India,  and  carried  contrary  to  the  whole  force  of 
experienced  Indian  opinion.  Yet  it  was  at  first  determined 
that  a  great  part  of  its  cost  should  be  thrown  on  the  Indian 
taxpayer.  Still  graver  in  its  probable  effects  was  the  policy 
which  forbade  India,  in  a  time  of  deep  financial  distress,  to 
raise  a  revenue  by  import  duties  on  English  cotton,  in 
accordance  with  the  almost  unanimous  desire  of  her  admini- 
strators and  her  educated  public  opinion.  No  one  ever 
doubted  that,  if  India  possessed  representative  institutions, 
or  if  the  opinions  of  English  administrators  in  India  or  of 
Indian  administrators  at  home  had  been  taken,  such  duties 
would  have  been  imposed.  But  votes  might  have  been  lost, 
an  agitation  might  have  been  raised  in  England,  and  both 
parties  feared  to  run  the  risk. 

Fortunately,  in  these  two  cases  the  false  steps  that  had 
been  taken  did  not  prove  irrevocable.  The  Minister  for  India 
(Mr.  Fowler),  to  his  infinite  credit,  had  the  courage  to  insist 
at  all  hazards  upon  revising  them,  and  he  found  sufficient 


208  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

patriotism  in  the  Opposition  to  enable  him  to  secure  the 
support  of  a  large  majority  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
Seldom  indeed  in  recent  years  has  the  chord  of  genuine 
public  spirit  in  that  House  been  so  powerfully  and  so  suc- 
cessfully struck.  But  the  original  faults  were  very  grave, 
and  they  illustrate  the  dangers  to  which  democratic  parlia- 
mentary government  with  a  weak  executive  exposes  the 
great  interests  of  the  Empire. 

The  blame  must  be  divided  between  both  parties.  In 
both  parties  the  minister  representing  India  has,  I  believe, 
usually  done  his  best,  short  of  resigning  his  office  ;  but  when 
a  small  group  of  voters  may  turn  the  balance,  the  great 
interests  of  India  are  but  too  likely  to  be  sacrificed  to  the 
party  game.  It  is  often  said  that  England  holds  India  by 
the  sword  ;  but  this,  though  largely,  is  not  wholly  true.  If 
the  belief  of  the  great  masses  of  the  Indian  people  in  the  essen- 
tial integrity  and  beneficence  of  English  rule  is  ever  shaken, 
one  of  the  chief  pillars  of  our  power  will  have  been  destroyed. 

Our  Indian  experience,  however,  at  least  shows  that  the 
governing  qualities  of  the  race  remain  ;  and  the  same  truth  is 
taught  by  the  admirable  corporate  government  which  has 
grown  up  in  our  great  towns.  It  is  very  doubtful  whether 
the  spirit  of  municipal  and  local  patriotism  was  more 
strongly  developed  either  in  ancient  Greece,  or,  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  in  the  great  towns  of  Italy  and  Flanders  or 
along  the  Baltic,  than  it  now  is  in  Birmingham,  or  Liver- 
pool, or  Manchester.  The  self-governing  qualities  that  are 
displayed  in  these  great  centres,  the  munificence  and  patriot- 
ism with  which  their  public  institutions  are  supported,  the 
strong  stream  of  distinctive  political  tendency  that  ema- 
nates from  them,  are  among  the  most  remarkable  and  most 
consolatory  facts  of  English  life.  In  France,  the  ascendency 
of  Paris  has  almost  atrophied  political  life  in  the  provincial 
towns,  and  the  capital  has  again  and  again  shown  itself 
sufficiently  powerful  to  reverse  the  decision  of  the  country. 
In  America,  the  corruption  of  municipal  government  in 
nearly  all  the  more  important  cities  is  the  worst  side  of  the 
national  life.     England  has  hitherto  escaped  both  of  these 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH       209 

evils,  and  the  political  weight  of  the  chief  provincial  towns 
is  unquestionable.  The  Manchester  school  of  the  last 
generation,  and  the  Birmingham  school  of  the  present 
generation,  have  been  among  the  most  powerful  influences 
in  modern  politics. 

The  growth  of  an  independent  provincial  spirit  has  been 
much  accelerated  by  the  telegraph.  The  political  influence 
of  this  great  invention,  though  various  and  chequered,  has 
been  scarcely  less  powerful  than  that  of  the  railway.  It  has 
brought  the  distant  dependencies  of  the  Empire  into  far 
closer  connection  with  the  mother  country  ;  but  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether  the  power  it  has  given  to  the  home 
ministers  of  continually  meddling  with  the  details  of  their 
administration  is  a  good  thing,  and  there  have  been  times  of 
disagreement  when  a  rapid  communication  between  foreign 
countries  might  have  led  rather  to  war  than  to  peace. 
Government  by  telegraph  is  a  very  dangerous  thing ;  and  it 
has  been  often  said  that  if  an  Atlantic  telegraph  had  con- 
nected England  with  the  United  States  in  the  first  excite- 
ment of  the  '  Trent '  affair,  enabling  the  two  nations,  when 
their  blood  was  still  hot,  to  exchange  their  impressions,  a 
war  could  scarcely  have  been  averted.  The  telegraph,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  greatly  strengthened  the  Central  Government 
in  repressing  insurrections,  protecting  property,  and  punishing 
crime.  It  has  at  least  modified  the  Irish  difficulty,  by  bring- 
ing Dublin  within  a  few  minutes'  communication  of  London. 
It  has  had  enormous  economical  consequences,  equalising 
prices,  stimulating  speculation,  destroying  in  a  great  measure 
the  advantage  of  priority  of  time  which  the  inhabitants  of 
great  centres  naturally  had  in  many  competitions. 

The  effect,  however,  on  which  I  would  now  specially 
dwell  is  its  great  power  in  decentralising  politics.  The  pro- 
vincial press,  no  doubt,  owes  much  to  the  repeal  of  the  stamp 
duty  and  the  paper  duty  ;  but  the  immense  development  and 
importance  it  has  assumed  within  the  lifetime  of  men  who 
are  still  of  middle  age  are  mainly  due  to  the  existence  of  tele- 
graphic communication.  All  kinds  of  foreign  and  domestic 
news,  and  even  full  reports  of  debates  in  Parliament  that  are 

vol.  1.  P 


2IO  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  any  local  interest,  are  printed  in  an  Irish,  or  Scotch,  or 
Liverpool  paper  as  early  as  in  London.  The  local  newspaper 
is  thus  able,  in  its  own  district,  to  anticipate  the  news  of  the 
London  papers,  and  in  consequence,  over  large  areas  of  the 
country  where  the  metropolitan  press  once  exercised  an 
enormous  influence,  a  London  newspaper  is  now  seldom 
seen.  With  its  increased  importance  and  circulation,  the 
provincial  press  can  command  far  more  talent  than  in  the 
past,  and  it  has  become  one  of  the  most  important  agencies, 
both  in  indicating  and  in  forming  national  opinion. 

I  do  not  know  that  it  was  ever  clearly  foreseen  that 
while  railways  were  doing  so  much  to  centralise,  the  telegraph 
would  do  so  much  to  decentralise,  multiplying  in  England 
powerful  and  independent  centres  of  political  thought  and 
education,  building  up  a  provincial  press  which  often  fully 
rivals  in  ability  that  of  the  metropolis,  while,  within  its  own 
spheres  of  influence,  it  exercises  a  far  greater  ascendency. 
This  has  been  one  of  the  great  political  facts  of  our  time, 
and,  on  the  whole,  it  seems  to  me  to  have  been  a  beneficial 
one.  ^Representative  institutions  will  probably  perish  by 
ceasing  to  be  representative,  genuine  opinion  being  overlaid 
and  crushed  by  great  multitudes  of  ignorant  voters  of  one 
class.  In  our  day,  the  press  is  becoming  far  more  than  the 
House  of  Commons  the  representative  of  the  real  public 
opinion  of  the  nation. 

'  Its  growth  is  but  one  of  the  many  signs  of  the  intense 
and  many-sided  intellectual  and  moral  energy  that  pervades 
the  country.  There  are  fields,  indeed,  both  of  thought  and 
action,  in  which  the  greatest  men  of  our  generation  are 
dwarfed  by  their  predecessors;  but  if  we  measure  our  age 
by  the  aggregate  of  its  vitality,  by  the  broad  sweep  of  its 
energies  and  achievements,  the  England  of  our  century  can 
hardly  fail  to  rank  very  high.  In  art,  in  science,  in  literature, 
in  the  enlargement  of  the  bounds  of  knowledge,  in  the  popu- 
larisation of  acquired  knowledge,  in  inventions  and  discoveries, 
and  in  most  of  the  forms  of  enterprise  and  philanthropy,  it 
has  assuredly  done  much.  It  has  produced  in  Darwin  a 
man  who  has  effected  a  greater  revolution  in  the  opinions 


ENGLAND   NOT   DECADENT  211 

of  mankind  than  anyone,  at  least  since  Newton,  and  whose 
name  is  likely  to  live  with  honour  as  long  as  the  human 
race  moves  upon  the  planet ;  while  in  Gordon  it  has  produced 
a  type  of  simple,  self-sacrificing,  religious  heroism  which  is 
in  its  own  kind  as  perfect  as  anything,  even  in  the  legends 
of  chivalry.  A  country  which  has  produced  such  men  and 
such  works  does  not  seem  to  be  in  a  condition  of  general 
decadence,  though  its  Constitution  is  plainly  worn  out, 
though  the  balance  of  power  within  it  has  been  destroyed, 
and  though  diseases  of  a  serious  character  are  fast  growing 
in  its  political  life.  The  future  only  can  tell  whether  the 
energy  of  the  English  people  can  be  sufficiently  roused  to 
check  these  evils,  and  to  do  so  before  they  have  led  to  some 
great  catastrophe. 


212  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 


CHAPTEE   III 

I  do  not  think  that  any  one  who  seriously  considers  the  force 
and  universality  of  the  movement  of  our  generation  in  the 
direction  of  democracy  can  doubt  that  this   conception    of 
government  will  necessarily,  at  least  for  a  considerable  time, 
dominate  in  all  civilised  countries,  and  the  real  question  for 
politicians  is  the  form  it  is  likely  to  take,  and  the  means  by 
which  its  characteristic  evils  can  be  best  mitigated.     As  we 
have,  I   think,  abundantly  seen,  a  tendency  to   democracj' 
does  not  mean  a  tendency  to  parliamentary  government,  or 
even  a  tendency  towards  greater  liberty.     On  the  contrary, 
strong  arguments  may  be  adduced,  both  from  history  and 
from  the  nature  of  things,  to  show  that   democracy   may 
often  prove  the  direct  opposite  of  liberty.     In  ancient  Koine 
the  old  aristocratic  republic  was  gradually  transformed  into 
a  democracy,  and  it  then  passed  speedily  into  an   imperial 
despotism.     In  France  a  corresponding  change  has  more  than 
once  taken  place.     A  despotism  resting  on  a  plebiscite  is  quite 
as  natural  a  form  Of  democracy  as  a  republic,  and  some  of 
the  strongest  democratic  tendencies  are  distinctly  adverse  to 
liberty.     Equality  is  the  idol  of  democracy,  but,  with  the 
infinitely  various  capacities  and  energies  of  men,  this  can 
only  be  attained  by  a  constant,  systematic,  stringent  repres- 
sion of  their  natural  development.     Whenever  natural  forces 
have   unrestricted    play,    inequality    is    certain    to    ensue. 
Democracy  destroys  the  balance  of  opinions,  interests,  and 
classes,  on  which  constitutional  liberty  mainly  depends,  and 
its  constant  tendency  is  to  impair  the  efficiency  and  authority 
of  parliaments,  which  have  hitherto  proved  the  chief  organs 
of  political  liberty.     In  the  Middle  Ages,  the  two  most  demo- 


DEMOCRACY   IS   NOT   LIBERTY  213 

cratic  institutions  were  the  Church  and  the  guild.  The 
first  taught  the  essential  spiritual  equality  of  mankind, 
and  placed  men  taken  from  the  servile  class  on  a  pedestal 
before  which  kings  and  nobles  were  compelled  to  bow  ;  but 
it  also  formed  the  most  tremendous  instrument  of  spiritual 
tyranny  the  world  has  ever  seen.  The  second  organised 
industry  on  a  self-governing  and  representative  basis,  but 
at  the  same  time  restricted  and  regulated  it  in  all  its  details 
with  the  most  stringent  despotism. 

In  our  own  day,  no  fact  is  more  incontestable  and  con- 
spicuous' than  the  love  of  democracy  for  authoritative  regu- 
lation. The  two  things  that  men  in  middle  age  have  seen 
most  discredited  among  their  contemporaries  are  probably 
free  contract  and  free  trade.  The  great  majority  of  the 
democracies  of  the  world  are  now  frankly  protectionist,  and 
even  in  free-trade  countries  the  multiplication  of  laws  regu- 
lating, restricting,  and  interfering  with  industry  in  all  its  de- 
partments is  one  of  the  most  marked  characteristics  of  our 
time.  Nor  are  these  regulations  solely  due  to  sanitary  or 
humanitarian  motives.  Among  large  classes  of  those  who 
advocate  them  another  motive  is  very  perceptible.  A  school 
has  arisen  among  popular  working-class  leaders  which  no 
longer  desires  that  superior  skill,  or  industry,  or  providence 
should  reap  extraordinary  rewards.  Their  ideal  is  to  restrict 
by  the  strongest  trade-union  regulations  the  amount  of  work 
and  the  amount  of  the  produce  of  work,  to  introduce  the 
principle  of  legal  compulsion  into  every  branch  of  industry, 
to  give  the  trade  union  an  absolute  coercive  power  over 
its  members,  to  attain  a  high  average,  but  to  permit  no 
superiorities.  The  industrial  organisation  to  which  they 
aspire  approaches  far  more  nearly  to  that  of  the  Middle  Ages 
or  of  the  Tudors  than  to  the  ideal  of  Jefferson  and  Cobden.  I 
do  not  here  argue  whether  this  tendency  is  good  or  bad.  No 
one  at  least  can  suppose  that  it  is  in  the  direction  of  freedom. 
It  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  whether  liberty  in  other  forms 
is  likely  to  be  very  secure  if  power  is  mainly  placed  in  the 
hands  of  men  who,  in  their  own  sphere,  value  it  so  little. 

The  expansion  of  the  authority  and  the  multiplication  of 


214  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  functions  of  the  State  in  other  fields,  and  especially  in 
the  field  of  social  regulation,  is  an  equally  apparent  accom- 
paniment of  modern  democracy.  This  increase  of  State 
power  means  a  multiplication  of  restrictions  imposed  upon 
the  various  forms  of  human  action.  It  means  an  increase 
of  bureaucracy,  or,  in  other  words,  of  the  number  and  power 
of  State  officials.  It  means  also  a  constant  increase  of 
taxation,  which  is  in  reality  a  constant  restriction  of  liberty. 
One  of  the  first  forms  of  liberty  is  the  right  of  every  man  to 
dispose  of  his  own  property  and  earnings,  and  every  tax  is  a 
portion  of  this  money  taken  from  him  by  the  force  and 
authority  of  the  law.  Many  of  these  taxes  are,  no  doubt,  for 
purposes  in  which  he  has  the  highest  interest.  They  give 
him  the  necessary  security  of  life,  property,  and  industry, 
and  they  add  in  countless  ways  to  his  enjoyment.  But  if 
taxes  are  multiplied  for  carrying  out  a  crowd  of  objects  in 
which  he  has  no  interest,  and  with  many  of  which  he  has  no 
sympathy,  his  liberty  is  proportionately  restricted.  His 
money  is  more  and  more  taken  from  him  by  force  for  pur- 
poses of  which  he  does  not  approve.  The  question  of 
taxation  is  in  the  highest  degree  a  question  of  liberty,  and 
taxation  under  a  democrac}T  is  likely  to  take  forms  that  are 
peculiarly  hostile  to  liberty.  I  have  already  pointed  out  how 
the  old  fundamental  principle  of  English  freedom,  that  no 
one  should  be  taxed  except  by  his  consent,  is  being  gradually 
discarded ;  and  how  we  are  steadily  advancing  to  a  state  in 
which  one  class  will  impose  the  taxes,  while  another  class 
will  be  mainly  compelled  to  pay  them.  It  is  obvious  that 
taxation  is  more  and  more  employed  for  objects  that  are  not 
common  interests  of  the  whole  community,  and  that  there  is 
a  growing  tendency  to  look  upon  it  as  a  possible  means  of 
confiscation  ;  to  make  use  of  it  to  break  down  the  power, 
influence,  and  wealth  of  particular  classes  ;  to  form  a  new 
social  type ;  to  obtain  the  means  of  class  bribery. 

There  are  other  ways  in  which  democracy  does  not  har- 
monise well  with  liberty.  To  place  the  chief  power  in  the 
most  ignorant  classes  is  to  place  it  in  the  hands  of  those  who 
naturally  care  least  for  political  liberty,  and  who  are  most  likely 


DANGERS   TO   LIBERTY  21  5 

to  follow  with  an  absolute  devotion  some  strong  leader.  The 
sentiment  of  nationality  penetrates  very  deeply  into  all  classes ; 
but  in  all  countries  and  ages  it  is  the  upper  and  middle  classes 
who  have  chiefly  valued  constitutional  liberty,  and  those  classes 
it  is  the  work  of  democracy  to  dethrone.  At  the  same  time 
democracy  does  much  to  weaken  among  these  also  the  love 
of  liberty.  The  instability  and  insecurity  of  democratic 
politics ;  the  spectacle  of  dishonest  and  predatory  adven- 
turers climbing  by  popular  suffrage  into  positions  of  great 
power  in  the  State ;  the  alarm  which  attacks  on  property 
seldom  fail  to  produce  among  those  who  have  something  to 
lose,  may  easily  scare  to  the  side  of  despotism  large  classes 
who,  under  other  circumstances,  would  have  been  steady 
supporters  of  liberty.  A  despotism  which  secures  order,  pro- 
perty, and  industry,  which  leaves  the  liberty  of  religion  and 
of  private  life  unimpaired,  and  which  enables  quiet  and  indus- 
trious men  to  pass  through  life  untroubled  and  unmolested, 
will  always  appear  to  many  very  preferable  to  a  democratic 
republic  which  is  constantly  menacing,  disturbing,  or  plun- 
dering them.  It  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that 
the  French  despotic  Empire  after  1852  rested  on  bayonets 
alone.  It  rested  partly  on  the  genuine  consent  of  those 
large  agricultural  classes  who  cared  greatly  for  material 
prosperity  and  very  little  for  constitutional  liberty,  and  partly 
on  the  panic  produced  among  the  middle  classes  by  the 
socialist  preaching  of  1848. 

The  dangers  to  be  apprehended  from  democracy  are 
enormously  increased  when  the  transformation  is  effected  by 
sudden  bounds.  Governments  or  societies  may  be  funda- 
mentally changed,  without  producing  any  great  convulsion 
or  catastrophe,  if  the  continuity  of  habit  is  preserved,  if  the 
changes  are  made  by  slow,  gradual,  and  almost  imperceptible 
steps.  As  I  have  already  said,  it  is  one  of  the  evils  of  our 
present  party  system  that  it  greatly  accelerates  this  progress. 
Very  few  constitutional  changes  are  the  results  of  a  genuine, 
spontaneous,  unforced  development.  They  are  mainly,  or 
at  least  largely,  due  to  rival  leaders  bidding  against  each 
other    for    popularity  ;    to  agitators  seeking  for  party    pur- 


2l6  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

poses  to  raise  a  cry  ;  to  defeated  statesmen  trying,  when 
they  are  condemned  by  existing  constituencies,  to  regain 
power  by  creating  new  ones.  The  true  origin  of  some  of 
the  most  far-reaching  changes  of  our  day  is,  probably, 
simply  a  desire  so  to  shuffle  cards  or  combine  votes  as  to 
win  an  election.  With  a  powerful  Upper  Chamber  and  a 
strong  organisation  of  property  in  the  electorate,  the  con- 
servative influences  are  sufficient  to  prevent  a  too  rapid 
change.  But  when  these  checks  are  weakened  and  destroyed, 
and  when  there  are  no  constitutional  provisions  to  take 
their  place,  the  influences  working  in  the  direction  of 
change  acquire  an  enormously  augmented  force,  the  dangers 
of  the  process  are  incalculably  increased,  and  the  new  wine 
is  very  likely  to  burst  the  old  bottles. 

It  is  impossible  to  foretell  with  confident  accuracy  in  what 
form  societies  will  organise  their  governments  if,  under  the 
pressure  of  democracy,  our  present  system  of  parliamentary 
government  breaks  down.  A  study  of  the  methods  which 
many  different  countries  have  adopted,  and  especially  of  the 
manner  in  which  America  has  dealt  with  the  dangers  of 
democracy,  furnishes  us  with  perhaps  the  best  light  we  can 
obtain.  But,  within  the  framework  of  the  British  Constitu- 
tion, a  few  remedies  or  mitigations  of  existing  evils  have 
been  suggested,  which  may  be  easily,  or  at  least  without  any 
insuperable  difficulty,  introduced. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  is  a  change  in  the  Irish 
representation.  The  presence  in  the  House  of  Commons  of 
a  body  of  men  who  are  entirely  detached  from  the  general 
interests  of  the  Empire,  and  prepared  to  subordinate  all 
Imperial  concerns  to  their  own  special  policy,  must  always 
bring  with  it  some  danger  ;  and  there  could  hardly  be  a 
greater  folly  than  to  allow  such  an  element  to  possess  an 
abnormal  and  wholly  excessive  share  in  the  representation. 
Few  more  foolish  or  wicked  acts  have  been  done  in  modern 
times  than  the  lowering  of  the  suffrage  in  Ireland,  by  which 
this  great  evil  and  danger  was  deliberately  raised  to  its 
present  magnitude,  while  not  a  single  step  was  taken,  either 
by    curtailing   representation,    or    redistributing    seats,    or 


THE   IRISH   REPRESENTATION  217 

securing  a  representation  of  minorities,  to  mitigate  the  evil. 
Such  a  policy,  indeed,  would  seem  simple  madness  if  party 
interest  did  not  furnish  an  explanation.  It  is  acknowledged 
that  the  Irish  representation,  if  measured  by  the  test  of 
numbers  alone,  is  about  twenty-three  seats  in  excess  of  its 
proper  number.  If  the  far  more  rational  test  of  numbers 
and  taxation  combined  be  taken,  the  excess  is  still  greater. 
It  is  an  excess,  too,  which  is  mainly  in  one  portion  of 
Ireland,  and  in  one  class — the  most  ignorant,  the  most  dis- 
loyal, the  most  amenable  to  sinister  influence.  The  steady 
action  of  this  party  has  been  to  disintegrate  and  degrade 
parliamentary  government,  to  support  every  measure  in 
the  direction  of  anarchy  or  plunder.  Yet  it  is  well  known 
that  for  some  years  the  Government  of  England  depended 
for  its  existence,  not  only  on  the  Irish  vote,  but  on  the 
illegitimate  strength  of  that  vote.  If  we  look  through  the 
more  revolutionary  and  dangerous  measures  of  the  last  few 
years,  we  shall  find  that  very  few  have  been  carried  through 
all  their  stages  by  an  English  majority  and  not  many  by  a 
British  majority,  while  some  of  the  worst  measures  could 
never  have  been  carried  by  the  votes  of  the  whole  kingdom 
if  the  Irish  representatives  had  not  been  disproportionately 
large.  And  the  men  who  have  kept  a  Government  in 
power,  and  largely  influenced  its  policy,  have  been  men  who 
are  avowedly  and  ostentatiously  indifferent  to  the  welfare 
of  the  Empire,  men  whose  votes  on  questions  vitally  affect- 
ing British  or  Imperial  interests  are  notoriously  governed 
by  considerations  in  which  these  interests  have  no  part.  It 
is  owing  to  the  excessive  number  of  such  men  in  Parliament 
that  a  system  of  taxation  has  been  carried  through  the  House 
of  Commons  which  may  break  up  the  social  organisation  on 
which  a  great  part  of  the  wellbeing  of  England  has  depended 
for  nearly  a  thousand  years.  No  one  supposes  that  the 
Irish  surplus  which  turned  the  balance  felt  the  smallest 
interest  in  the  result. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  situation  either  more 
dangerous,  or  more  absurd,  or  more  humiliating  than  this. 
According   to    all    rational    conceptions    of    constitutional 


2l8  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

government,  it  should  be  the  object  of  the  legislator  to 
strengthen  the  influence  of  intelligence,  loyalty,  and  property 
in  the  representation,  and  in  every  change  to  improve,  or 
not  to  injure,  the  character  of  Parliament.  If,  however,  such 
ideas  are  discarded  as  obsolete  and  behind  the  age,  if  the 
new  worship  of  mere  numbers  prevails,  to  the  utter  dis- 
regard of  all  the  real  interests  of  the  State,  the  present 
representation  of  Ireland  is  still  completely  indefensible. 
The  argument  from  the  100  votes  stipulated  by  the  Union 
treaty  has  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  legislation  of  the  last 
few  years.  A  party  which  has  abolished  the  Established 
Church  of  Ireland,  which  the  Irish  Parliament  made  '  an  essen- 
tial and  fundamental  part  of  the  Union,'  and  which  threatens 
to  abolish  the  Established  Church  of  Scotland,  which  was 
guaranteed  with  equal  solemnity  at  both  the  Scotch  and  the 
Irish  Unions,  cannot  avail  itself  of  such  an  argument.  And 
the  absurdity  becomes  still  more  manifest  when  it  is  remem- 
bered that  the  great  industrial  counties  in  Ireland,  which 
represent  its  most  progressive  and  loyal  portions,  are  not 
over-represented,  but  under-represented,  and  that,  as  the 
result  of  the  present  system,  in  three  provinces  property, 
loyalty,  and  intelligence  are  practically  disfranchised. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  a  reduction,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  rearrangement,  of  the  Irish  representation  would 
greatly  improve  the  constitution  of  parties,  and  it  would  cer- 
tainly be  a  great  blessing  to  Ireland.  Should  this  reduction 
be  effected,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  seats  taken  from  Ire- 
land may  not  be  added  to  Great  Britain,  and  that  statesmen 
will  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to  effect  some  slight 
diminution  of  the  numbers  of  the  House. 

Nearly  all  the  methods  by  which  it  has  been  attempted 
to  secure  in  Parliament  a  representation  of  the  various 
classes  and  interests  of  the  community  seem  passing  away 
under  the  influence  of  democracy.  Unequal  constituencies, 
restrictions  of  the  suffrage,  property  qualifications,  special 
representations  of  property,  are  all  denounced  as  opposed  to 
the  spirit  of  the  age.  Direct  class  representation  also,  which 
has  borne  a  large  part  in  the  history  of  representative 
government,  has  been  steadily  declining,  though  it  has  in 


CLASS   REPRESENTATION  219 

our  own  day  some  able  defenders,1  and  though  it  is,  I  think, 
by  no  means  impossible  that  in  some  future  stage  of  the 
world's  history  it  may  be  largely  revived.  The  apportion- 
ment of  political  power  between  distinctly  separated  classes 
has,  indeed,  been  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  fruitful  ideas  in 
political  philosophy.  It  existed  in  Athens  even  before  the 
days  of  Solon,  and  Solon,  in  his  revision  of  the  Athenian 
Constitution,  divided  the  citizens  into  four  classes,  according 
to  the  amount  of  their  property,  subjecting  each  class  to  a 
special  proportion  of  taxation,  and  giving  each  class  special 
and  peculiar  privileges  in  the  State.-  In  the  Eoman 
republic  the  citizens  were  divided  into  six  different  classes, 
according  to  the  amount  of  their  property,  the  lowest  class 
comprising  the  poorest  citizens ;  and  each  class  was  sub- 
divided into  a  number  of  '  centuries,'  proportioned  to  what 
was  considered  their  importance  in  the  State,  and  each 
century  had  a  single  vote  in  enacting  laws  and  electing 
magistrates.  Cicero  claims  for  this  system  that  it  gave 
some  voice  to  every  class,  but  a  greatly  preponderating  voice 
to  those  who  had  most  interest  in  the  wellbeing  of  the 
State.3  A  similar  idea  inspired  the  special  representation 
of  the  three  estates  of  Lords,  Clergy,  and  Commons,  which 
grew  up    in    the    Middle  Ages,  and  which  played    a  great 

1  See,  e.g.,  the  remarkable  book  of  M.  Adolphe  Prins,  IS  Organisation  dc  la 
Libertt  (Brussels,  1895).  M.  Prins  observes  :  '  II  est  incontestable  que  le  suf- 
frage universel  sans  cadres,  sans  organisation,  sans  groupement,  est  un  sys- 
teme  factice  ;  il  ne  donne  que  l'ombre  de  la  vie  politique.  II  n'atteint  pas  le 
seul  but  vraiment  politique  que  Ton  doive  avoir  en  vue,  et  qui  est  non  de 
faire  voter  tout  le  monde,  mais  d'arriver  a  representer  le  mieux  les  interets  du 
plus  grand  nombre.  .  .  .  On  pent  avoir  le  droit  de  vote  sans  etre  represents. 
C'est  le  fait  de  toutes  les  minorities  electorates  sous  le  regime  de  la  majorite 
numerique.  .  .  .  Le  suffrage  universel  moderne  c'est  surtout  le  suffrage  des 
passions,  des  courants  irreflechis,  des  partis  extremes.  II  ne  laisse  aucune 
place  aux  idees  moderees  et  il  ecrase  les  partis  moderes.  La  victoire  est  aux 
exaltt's.  La  representation  des  interets,  qui  contient  les  passions  par  les  idees. 
qui  mod  ere  Pardeur  des  partis  par  Taction  des  facteurs  sociaux,  donne  a  la 
societe  plus  dYquilibre  '  (pp.  186,  187,  201). 

'2  See  Grote's  History,  iii.  118-21. 

3  '  Ita  nee  prohibebatur  quisquam  jure  suffragii,  et  is  valebat  in  suffragio 
plurimum,  cujus  plurimum  intererat esse  in  optimo  statu  civitatum  '  (Cicero. dc 
liepublica,  ii.  22.  This  Constitution  is  attributed  to  Servius  Tullius,  but  pro- 
bably acquired  its  most  characteristic  features  much  later.  It  was  for  some 
time  greatly  abused  by  the  first  class,  who  possessed  the  majority  of  centuries, 
and  voted  first. 


2  20  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

part  in  the  early  constitutional  history  of  England,  France, 
and  Spain.  The  four  orders  of  Nobles,  Clergy,  Burgesses, 
and  Peasants  were  separately  represented  in  Sweden  up  to 
1866,  and  the  same  system  still  survives  in  the  Constitution 
of  Finland.  In  the  Prussian  Constitution  of  1850  an  attempt 
is  made  to  maintain  a  balance  of  classes  by  dividing  the 
electors  '  of  the  first  degree '  into  three  different  classes, 
according  to  the  direct  taxes  they  pay,  and  giving  each  class 
a  separate  and  equal  power  of  election.  In  the  still  more 
recent  Constitution  of  Austria  the  electors  are  divided  into 
four  great  classes —  the  large  territorial  proprietors,  the  towns, 
the  chambers  of  commerce,  and  the  rural  communes — and 
each  category  returns  its  own  members  to  the  Chamber  of 
the  Deputies.  But  it  is  evident  that  the  present  stream  of 
political  tendency  is  not  flowing  in  this  direction,  and  it  is 
remarkable  that  the  legislators  who  framed  the  Constitution 
for  the  German  Empire  did  not  follow  the  example  of 
Prussia,  but  based  the  representative  chamber  on  direct 
universal  suffrage.  It  is  now  chiefly  in  the  upper  chambers 
that  class  representation  may  be  found. 

The  question,  however,  of  proportionate  representation, 
or  the  representation  of  minorities,  stands  on  a  different 
basis  from  the  representation  of  classes.  It  can  hardly  be 
contended  that  the  substitution  of  a  representation  of  the 
whole  nation  for  a  representation  of  a  mere  majority  is  con- 
trary to  democratic  principles.  It  is  manifest  that,  under 
the  existing  system,  multitudes  of  electors  are  in  effect  per- 
(  manently  disfranchised  and  unrepresented  because  they  are 
in  a  permanent  minority  in  the  constituencies  in  which  they 
live.  The  majority  possesses  not  merely  a  preponderance, 
but  a  monopoly ;  and  in  a  constituency  where  three-fifths 
vote  one  way  and  two-fifths  the  other,  the  whole  representa- 
tion is  in  the  hands  of  the  former.  Where  constituencies 
are  very  unequal  in  their  magnitude  it  is  quite  possible 
that  a  majority  of  the  representatives  may  be  returned 
by  a  minority  of  the  electors,  as  the  minority  in  a  large 
constituency  will  often  outnumber  the  majority  in  a  small 
one.     With    equalised    constituencies    and  widely  extended 


PROPORTIONATE  REPRESENTATION       22  1 

suffrage  another,  but  not  less  serious,  evil  will  prevail.  A 
single  class — the  most  numerous,  but  also  the  most  ignorant 
— will  generally  exceed  all  others,  and  other  classes  in  large 
numbers  of  constituencies  will  be  wholly  unrepresented. 
In  such  a  state  of  things,  the  importance  of  providing  some 
representation  for  minorities  is  extremely  great,  and  it  con- 
tinually happens  that  the  proportion  of  parties  in  the  repre- 
sentation differs  verj7  widely  from  the  proportion  in  the 
electorate.  When  two-thirds  of  a  constituency  vote  for  one 
party,  and  one-third  for  the  other,  it  is  obviously  just  that 
the  majority  should  have  two-thirds,  and  the  minority  one- 
third,  of  the  representation. 

The  importance  of  this  question  has  been  widely  felt 
during  the  last  few  years  in  many  countries,  especially  since 
the  powerful  chapter  in  which  Mill  discussed  it.  'In  a  really 
equal  democracy,'  he  wrote,  '  every  or  any  section  would  be 
represented,  not  disproportionately,  but  proportionately. 
A  majority  of  the  electors  would  always  have  a  majority  of 
the  representatives,  but  a  minority  of  the  electors  would  have 
a  minority  of  the  representatives.  Man  for  man,  they  would 
be  as  fully  represented  as  the  majority.  Unless  they  are, 
there  is  not  equal  government,  but  government  of  inequality 
and  privilege,  .  .  .  contrary  to  the  principles  of  democracy, 
which  professes  equality  as  its  very  root  and  foundation.'  ' 

There  are  several  methods  by  which  this  representation 
of  minorities  may  be  obtained  with  more  or  less  perfection. 
The  most  perfect  is  that  which  was  first  proposed  by  Mr. 
Hare  in  1859.  It  has  undergone  several  slight  modifica- 
tions, at  the  hands  either  of  Mr.  Hare  or  of  his  disciples ;  but 
it  will  here  be  sufficient  to  state  its  principle  in  the  simplest 
form.  The  legislator  must  first  ascertain  the  number  of 
voters  who  are  entitled  to  return  a  member  ;  which  is  done 
by  the  easy  process  of  dividing  the  number  of  voters  in  the 
kingdom,  or  in  one  portion  of  the  kingdom,  by  the  number 
of  seats.  Every  candidate  who  can  gain  this  number  of 
votes  is  to  be  elected,  whether  these  votes  come  from  his 
own  or  from  other  constituencies.     It  is  proposed  that  each 

1   Mill  On  Representative  Government,  p.  133. 


222  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

elector  should  have  one  vote,  but  should  vote  on  a  paper 
on  which  the  candidate  he  prefers  stands  first,  while  the 
names  of  other  candidates  follow  in  the  order  of  preference. 
If,  when  the  paper  is  drawn,  the  candidate  at  the  head  of 
the  list  has  already  obtained  the  requisite  number  of  votes, 
the  vote  is  to  pass  to  the  first  of  the  succeeding  candidates 
who  is  still  deficient.  No  candidate  is  to  be  credited  with  a 
greater  number  of  votes  than  is  required  for  his  election,  and 
his  superfluous  votes  are  in  this  manner  to  be  transferred  to 
other  candidates  to  make  up  their  quota.  And  this  transfer 
is  to  be  made  quite  irrespectively  of  the  locality  for  which 
they  stand. 

It  cannot,  I  think,  be  said  that  there  is  anything  very 
mysterious  or  perplexing  in  this  proceeding,  though  it  would 
probably  be  some  little  time  before  the  electors  became 
accustomed  to  it,  and  though  it  would  impose  some  diffi- 
culties of  detail  and  some  rather  complicated  calculations 
upon  the  officials  who  worked  it.  An  element  of  chance 
would  always  remain,  as  the  direction  of  the  votes  would 
partly  depend  upon  the  order  in  which  the  papers  were  drawn  ; 
and  it  would  probably  be  found  impossible  to  adapt  the  system 
to  bye-elections,  which  might  continue  as  at  present.  If  all 
the  seats  were  not  filled  by  candidates  who  had  obtained  the 
requisite  number  of  votes,  those  who  approximated  most 
nearly  to  the  number  might  be  chosen  to  fill  the  vacancies. 
The  plan  is  not  put  forward  as  absolutely  perfect,  but  it  is 
contended  for  it  that  it  would  give  at  every  general  election 
a  far  more  accurate  representation  of  the  wishes  of  the  elec- 
torate than  our  present  system  ;  that  it  would  utilise  a  great 
number  of  votes  which  are  now  lost  or  wasted  ;  that  it  would 
rekindle  political  life  among  large  classes  who  are  at  present 
in  a  hopeless  minority  in  their  constituencies  ;  that  it  would 
diminish  the  oscillations  of  politics,  by  preventing  the  wholly 
disproportionate  change  of  power  that  so  often  follows  a  slight 
shifting  in  the  electorate  ;  and  that  it  would  greatly  improve 
the  intellectual  level  of  the  House  of  Commons,  by  making 
it  the  interest  of  party  managers  to  select  candidates  of 
acknowledged  eminence,  and  by  giving  such  candidates  far 


HARE'S   SYSTEM  223 

greater  chances  of  success.     It  has  been  said  that  it  would 

o 

destroy  local  representation ;  but  it  is  answered  that  a  strong 
local  candidate  would  usually  have  most  chance  of  obtaining 
the  required  number  of  votes,  and  that  it  would  be  mainly 
the  voters  who  are  in  a  minority  in  their  constituency,  and 
are  now  virtually  disfranchised,  who  would  transfer  their 
votes.  On  the  great  majority  of  papers  a  local  candidate 
would  almost  certainly  head  the  list.  It  is  urged  that  the 
system  realises  more  perfectly  than  any  other  the  democratic 
principle  of  absolute  equality,  while  it  at  the  same  time 
secures  the  representation  of  all  considerable  minorities. 
Under  no  other  system  would  the  representative  chamber 
reflect  so  truly,  in  their  due  numerical  proportion,  the  various 
classes,  interests,  and  opinions  of  the  nation. 

There  have  been,  as  I  have  said,  several  slight  modifica- 
tions of  this  system — usually,  I  think,  not  improvements. 
M.  de  Girardin  has  urged  that  all  local  constituencies  should 
be  abolished,  and  that  the  whole  country  should  be  treated 
as  one  great  constituency.  Another  proposal  is,  that  each 
candidate  should  have  a  right  to  have  the  votes  for  him  that 
are  in  excess  of  those  required  for  his  election  transferred 
to  some  other  candidate  whom  he  had  previously  named. 
I  do  not  think  that,  if  Mr.  Hare's  system  were  adopted,  there 
would  be  any  great  difficulty  in  working  it,  and  it  would 
probably  materially  improve  the  Constitution  ;  but  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether,  in  a  democratic  age,  public  opinion  would 
ever  demand  with  sufficient  persistence  a  representation  of 
minorities,  or  whether  the  British  nation  could  ever  be 
induced  to  adopt  a  system  which  departs  so  widely  from  its 
traditional  forms  and  habits.  It  is  remarkable,  however, 
that  a  system  very  like  that  of  Mr.  Hare  had,  without  his 
knowledge,  been  adopted  on  a  small  scale  in  Denmark  as 
early  as  1855.  It  was  due  to  a  distinguished  statesman 
named  Andreae,  who  was  also  a  distinguished  mathematician  ; 
and,  with  some  modifications  and  restrictions,  it  still  con- 
tinues.1 

1  See   Ijci    Representation  Proportionnclh',  published  by  the  Society  pour 
PEtuile  de  la  Representation  Proportionnelle  (Paris,  1888),  pp.  338-66. 


224  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Two  other  methods  have  been  proposed  for  giving  repre- 
sentation to  minorities  which,  though  much  less  perfect 
than  the  plan  of  Mr:  Hare,  diverge  much  less  from  the 
current  notions  about  representation.  One  is  the  system 
of  three-cornered  constituencies — that  is,  of  constituencies 
returning  three  members,  in  which  every  elector  has  only  a 
right  to  two  votes,  and  in  which  a  minority  exceeding  a 
third  could,  in  consequence,  secure  one  representative. 
This  system  was  proposed  by  Lord  John  Russell  in  1854, 
but  was  not  received  with  favour.  In  1867  the  House  of 
Lords,  on  the  motion  of  Lord  Cairns,  introduced  it  into  the 
Reform  Bill,  and  it  became  law,  but  without  any  wide  redis- 
tribution of  seats.  If  the  three-cornered  system  had  been 
made  general,  it  would  probably  have  been  readily  accepted, 
and  soon  been  looked  upon  as  natural ;  but,  being  applied 
only  to  thirteen  constituencies,  it  was  an  exceptional  thing, 
and  not  popular.  Birmingham  and  one  or  two  other  great 
towns  resented  the  addition  of  a  third  member,  whose  vote 
in  a  party  division  might  counteract  that  of  one  of  the  two 
representatives  they  already  possessed,  and  therefore  diminish 
instead  of  increase  their  political  strength.  In  cases  where 
the  majority  equalled  or  slightly  exceeded  two-thirds  much 
difficult  and  expensive  organisation  was  required  to  enable 
it  to  retain  the  three  seats  to  which,  according  to  its  num- 
bers, it  was  entitled.  Bright,  who  himself  sat  for  Birming- 
ham, opposed  the  system  with  great  bitterness  and  persist- 
ence, and  the  Radical  party  were  generally  hostile  to  it.  It 
was  accordingly  abolished  in  the  Reform  Bill  of  1885,  which 
broke  up  the  great  majority  of  the  constituencies  into  smaller 
divisions,  each  retaining  one  member.  It  was  contended 
that  such  subdivision  improved  the  chances  of  a  minority  ; 
but  the  case  of  Ireland  abundantly  shows  how  little  reliance 
can  be  placed  on  this  security,1  and  the  adoption  of  such  seats 
greatly  added  to  the  difficulty  of  establishing  any  general 
system  of  minority  representation. 

'  Nothing  is  more  remarkable,'  writes  Mr.  Hare  in  speak- 

1  See  on  this  subject  an  admirable  pamphlet  by  Mr.  Aubrey  de  Vere,  called 
Ireland  and  Proportional  Representation  (1885). 


KEPRESENTATION   OF   MINORITIES  225 

ing  of  this  episode,  '  than  that  the  attempts  to  retrace  the 
steps  that  have  been  made  towards  rendering  the  represen- 
tative bodies  comprehensive,  and  not  exclusive  in  their 
character,  should  all  emanate  from  members  of  the  Liberal 
party,  which  is  understood  to  insist  upon  equality  in  political 
freedom,  without  partiality  in  favour  of  person  or  place. 
The  abolition  of  the  restricted  vote  was  put  forward  as  a 
pretended  vindication  of  electoral  rights,  while,  by  delivering 
the  electoral  power  of  every  community  over  to  the  majority, 
it  would  practically  disfranchise  a  third,  or  even  more,  of  the 
electors.'  ' 

The  other  system  is  that  of  the  cumulative  vote,  by  which, 
in  a  constituency  returning  three  or  more  members,  each 
elector  has  a  right  to  as  many  votes  as  there  are  members, 
and  may  either  distribute  them,  or  concentrate  them,  if  he 
pleases,  on  a  single  candidate.  This  method  is  more  likely 
to  be  popular  than  the  limited  vote,  as  it  gives  a  privilege 
instead  of  imposing  a  restriction,  and  it  would  undoubtedly 
be  effectual  in  enabling  any  considerable  minority  to  return 
a  member.  It  was  strongly,  but  unsuccessfully,  advocated 
by  Mr.  Lowe  in  1867,  and  it  was  introduced  into  the  school 
board  elections  in  1870.  Various  inequalities  and  anomalies 
have  been  pointed  out  in  its  working,  but,  on  the  whole, 
it  is  undoubtedly  efficacious  in  giving  minorities  a  real 
representation.  It  is  manifest,  however,  that  it  can  only  be 
really  useful  in  constituencies  represented  by  more  than  two 
members. 

These  various  methods  are  attempts  to  attain  an  end 
which  was,  on  the  whole,  roughly  though  unsystematically 
attained  under  the  older  methods  of  representation.  Various 
other  devices  have  been  proposed,  which,  however,  have  at 
present  no  chance  of  being  accepted.  Perhaps  the  only 
exception  is  a  low  educational  qualification,  obliging  the 
electors  at  least  to  be  able  to  read  and  write.  Such  a  quali- 
fication was  much  recommended  by  Mill,  and  it  has  passed 
into  several  democratic  constitutions.  It  was  first  introduced 
in  the  French  Revolutionary  Constitution  of  1795,  but  it 

1  Hare  On  the  Election  of  Representatives,  4th  ed.  p.  14. 
VOL.    I.  Q 


226  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

was  not  reproduced  in  any  of  the  subsequent  French  constitu- 
tions. It  exists,  however,  in  Portugal,  Italy,  and  Roumania, 
and  in  some  of  the  republics  of  South  America.1  The  most 
recent  and  most  extensive  instance  of  the  adoption  of  plural 
voting  has  been  in  the  new  Constitution  of  Belgium.  The 
electors  are  divided  into  three  classes.  One  vote  is  given  to 
all  male  persons  above  twenty-five  years  of  age  who  have 
resided  for  a  year  in  one  constituency ;  an  additional  vote  is 
given  to  married  men  and  widowers,  of  not  less  than  thirty- 
five  years,  with  families,  paying  a  personal  tax  of  five  francs 
to  the  State  on  the  buildings  they  inhabit,  and  also  to  the 
owners  of  property  of  a  certain  amount ;  while  a  third  and 
smaller  class,  formed  out  of  men  who  have  received  a  higher 
education,  filled  a  public  function,  or  belonged  to  a  learned 
profession,  are  entitled  to  three  votes.  In  this  very  demo- 
cratic constitution  a  form  of  compulsion  is  introduced  which 
does  not,  I  believe,  exist  in  any  other  contemporary  consti- 
tution. All  voters  who  have  not  obtained  a  special  exemp- 
tion from  a  judge  are  compelled  to  vote,  and  are  liable  to  a 
fine  if  they  abstain. 

It  is  too  soon  to  form  a  conclusive  opinion  on  either  the 
value  or  the  permanence  of  the  Belgian  system  of  plural 
voting,  incorporated  in  an  extremely  democratic  constitution. 
It  is  especially  interesting  to  English  observers,  as  being  an 
attempt  to  carry  out  in  some  measure  one  of  the  favourite 
ideas  of  Mill. 

Mill  was  not  insensible  to  the  danger  and  injustice  of 
dissociating  the  power  of  voting  taxes  from  the  necessity  of 
paying  them,  and  to  the  fact  that  unqualified  universal 
suffrage  leads  plainly  and  rapidly  to  this  form  of  robbery. 
Universal  suffrage  he  valued  in  the  highest  degree  as  a  system 
of  education,  and  he  was  quite  prepared,  for  educational  pur- 
poses, to  give  the  most  incompetent  classes  in  the  community 
an  enormous  power  of  determining  the  vital  interests  of  the 
Empire,  regulating  the  industry,  and  disposing  of  the  pro- 
perty of  their  neighbours.  He  imagined  that  he  could  miti- 
gate or  avert  the  danger  by  two  expedients.     One  was  to 

1  Revue  de  Droit  International,  xxiv.  97. 


PLURAL   VOTING  227 

extend  direct  taxation  to  the  very  lowest  class,  imposing  a 
small  annual  tax  in  the  form  of  capitation  on  every  grown 
person  in  the  community.  If  this  direct  tax  could  be  made 
to  rise  or  fall  with  the  gross  expenditure  of  the  country,  he 
believed  that  every  elector  would  feel  himself  directly  inte- 
rested in  wise  and  economical  administration.  Paupers  and 
bankrupts,  and  those  who  had  not  paid  their  taxes,  were 
to  be  excluded  from  the  suffrage.  Is  it  a  rash  thing  to  say 
that  the  very  first  measure  of  a  Radical  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  who  desired  to  win  a  doubtful  election  under  the 
system  of  universal  suffrage  would  be  to  abolish  this  capita- 
tion tax  ? 

The  other  expedient  was  a  very  great  extension  of  plural 
voting.  Every  man  and  every  woman,  according  to  Mill, 
should  have  a  vote,  but  in  order  to  correct  the  great  dangers 
of  class  legislation  and  a  too  low  standard  of  political  intelli- 
gence, large  classes  should  be  strengthened  by  a  plurality 
of  votes.  Employers  of  labour,  foremen,  labourers  in  the 
more  skilled  trades,  bankers,  merchants,  and  manufacturers, 
might  all  be  given  two  or  more  votes.  Similar  or  greater 
advantages  might  be  given  to  the  members  of  the  liberal 
professions,  to  graduates  of  universities,  to  those  who  had 
passed  through  different  kinds  of  open  examination.  The 
old  system,  according  to  which  those  who  possessed  property 
in  different  constituencies  had  a  vote  in  each,  should  be 
preserved,  although  it  was  an  imperfect  one  ;  but  it  should  be 
considerably  extended.  '  In  any  future  Reform  Bill  which 
lowers  greatly  the  pecuniary  conditions  of  the  suffrage  it 
might  be  a  wise  provision  to  allow  all  graduates  of 
universities,  all  persons  who  had  passed  creditably  through 
the  higher  schools,  all  members  of  the  liberal  professions, 
and  perhaps  some  others,  to  be  registered  specifically  in  these 
characters,  and  to  give  their  votes  as  such  in  any  constituency 
in  which  they  choose  to  register,  retaining,  in  addition,  their 
votes  as  simple  citizens  in  the  localities  in  which  they 
reside.' * 

It  is   sufficiently  obvious  how  utterly  opposed  all  these 

1  Mill  On  Representative  Government,  pp.  1G5-71 

q  2 


2  28  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

views  are  to  the  predominating  tendency  of  modern  English 
Radicalism,  with  its  watchword  of  one  man,  one  vote,  and  its 
steadily  successful  efforts  to  place  the  property  and  the  liberty 
of  the  Empire  under  the  complete  dominion  of  the  poorest 
and  the  most  ignorant.  In  the  first  cast  of  the  Reform  Bill 
of  1867  Disraeli  introduced  a  number  of  qualifications  very 
much  in  the  spirit  of  those  which  had  been  advocated  by 
Mill.  While  enormously  extending  and  lowering  the  suffrage 
connected  with  the  ownership  and  occupation  of  property,  he 
proposed  to  confer  a  number  of  votes  of  another  description. 
There  was  an  educational  franchise,  to  be  conferred  on  all 
graduates  of  universities,  on  all  male  persons  who  had  passed 
at  any  senior  middle-class  examination  of  any  university  of 
the  United  Kingdom,  on  all  priests  and  deacons  of  the 
Established  Church,  all  ministers  of  other  denominations, 
all  barristers,  pleaders,  attorneys,  medical  men,  or  certificated 
schoolmasters.  There  was  a  pecuniary  franchise,  to  belong  to 
every  man  who,  during  the  preceding  two  years,  had  a  balance 
of  not  less  than  fifty  pounds  in  a  savings  bank,  or  in  the  Bank  of 
England,  or  in  any  parliamentary  stock,  or  who  paid  twenty 
shillings  for  assessed  taxes  or  income-tax  ;  and  there  was  a 
clause  enabling  voters  in  a  borough  to  be  registered  on 
two  different  qualifications,  and  to  exercise  in  consequence  a 
dual  vote. 

It 'was  intended  by  these  franchises  to  qualify  the  ascen- 
dency of  mere  numbers  by  strengthening  in  the  electorate 
intelligence,  education,  property,  and  frugality.  All  such 
attempts,  however,  were  opposed  by  Mr.  Gladstone  and  his 
followers,  and  the  new  franchises  were  very  lightly  aban- 
doned by  their  author.  They  were  usually  condemned  and 
ridiculed  as  '  fancy  franchises ' — a  curious  instance  of  the 
manner  in  which,  in  English  politics,  a  nickname  that  is 
neither  very  witty  nor  very  descriptive  can  be  made  to  take 
the  place  of  serious  argument. 

No  such  efforts  to  improve  the  electorate  are  now  likely 
to  obtain  even  a  respectful  hearing.  Whether,  however, 
they  have  passed  for  ever  is  another  question.  When  the 
present  evils  infecting  our  parliamentary  system  have  grown 


THE   REFERENDUM  229 

still  graver ;  when  a  democratic  house,  more  and  more  broken 
up  into  small  groups,  more  and  more  governed  by  sectional 
or  interested  motives,  shall  have  shown  itself  evidently  in- 
competent to  conduct  the  business  of  the  country  with 
honour,  efficiency,  and  safety ;  when  public  opinion  has 
learnt  more  fully  the  enormous  danger  to  national  pro- 
sperity, as  well  as  individual  happiness,  of  dissociating  power 
from  property,  and  giving  the  many  an  unlimited  right 
of  confiscating  by  taxation  the  possessions  of  the  few,  some 
great  reconstruction  of  government  is  sure  to  be  demanded. 
Fifty,  or  even  twenty-five  years  hence,  the  current  of  political 
opinion  in  England  may  be  as  different  from  that  of  our  own 
day  as  contemporary  political  tendencies  are  different  from 
those  in  the  generation  of  our  fathers.  Expedients  and 
arguments  that  are  now  dismissed  with  contempt  may  then 
revive,  and  play  no  small  part  in  the  politics  of  the  future. 

One  great  possible  constitutional  change,  very  new  to 
English  public  opinion,  has  risen  with  remarkable  rapidity 
into  prominence  in  the  last  fe  w  years,  and  is  perhaps  destined 
hereafter  to  have  an  extensive  influence.  I  mean  the  Swiss 
Referendum.  Rousseau,  in  his  '  Contrat  Social,'  maintained 
that  all  laws  ought  to  be  voted  by  universal  male  suffrage, 
and  that  no  law  which  had  not  received  this  direct  sanction 
was  binding.  It  is  probable  that  in  this,  as  in  some  other 
parts  of  his  political  philosophy,  he  was  much  influenced  by 
his  Swiss  experience,  for  the  old  form  of  government  known 
as  the  Landsgemeinde,  according  to  which  all  the  adult  males 
assemble  twice  a  year  to  vote  their  laws  and  elect  their  func- 
tionaries by  universal  suffrage,  existed  widely  in  his  time, 
both  in  the  town  governments  and  the  canton  governments 
of  Switzerland.  It  is  a  form  of  government  which  has  played 
a  great  part  in  the  early  history  of  mankind,  but  it  is  mani- 
festly unsuited  to  wide  areas  and  large  populations.  It  was 
abolished  in  our  own  century  in  Zug  and  in  Schwytz, 
but  it  may  still  be  seen  in  Uri,  Unterwalden,  Appenzell,  and 
Glarus.  The  French  Convention,  in  1793,  attempted  to  carry 
out  the  doctrine  of  Rousseau  by  introducing  into  its  Consti- 
tution a  provision  that,  in  case  a  certain  proportion  of  the 


230  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

electors  desired  it,  there  should  be  a  popular  vote  upon  every 
law  ;  and  although  this  Constitution  was  never  put  into  force, 
the  same  doctrine  was,  as  we  have  seen,  in  some  degree 
carried  out  in  the  shape  of  plebiscites  directly  sanctioning 
several  changes  of  government. 

In  Switzerland  it  has  taken  the  form  of  the  Referendum, 
which  appears  to  have  grown  out  of  the  Landsgemeinde. 
It  became  a  regular  and  permanent  element  in  Swiss 
government  after  the  French  Revolution  of  1830,  and  in 
recent  times  it  has  been  largely  extended.  The  Referendum 
is  not  intended  as  a  substitute  for  representative  govern- 
ment, but  as  a  final  court  of  appeal,  giving  the  electors, 
by  a  direct  vote,  the  right  of  veto  or  ratification  upon 
measures  which  had  already  passed  the  legislative  chambers. 
For  many  years  it  was  confined  to  the  separate  cantons, 
and  it  took  different  forms.  Sometimes  it  was  restricted 
to  new  taxes  and  changes  in  the  constitutions  of  the 
cantons.  In  several  cantons  it  is  chiefly  optional,  taking 
place  only  when  a  specified  number  of  electors  demand  it.  In 
other  cantons  it  is  compulsory,  the  constitution  providing 
that  all  laws  passed  by  the  representative  body  must  be 
submitted  to  a  direct  popular  vote  in  order  to  acquire  validity. 
In  all  the  cantons  there  is  now  a  compulsory  Referendum 
on  every  proposition  to  alter  the  cantonal  constitution,  and 
in  many  cantons  there  is  a  compulsory  Referendum  on  every 
expenditure  of  public  money,  beyond  a  certain  specified  sum, 
varying  according  to  their  extent  and  population.  The 
Catholic  canton  of  Fribourg  is  now  the  only  one  which 
confines  it  to  questions  of  constitutional  revision. 

The  Referendum  was  introduced  into  the  Federal  system 
by  the  Constitution  of  1848,  but  it  was  only  made  applicable 
to  the  single  case  of  constitutional  revision.  Every  change 
in  the  Constitution  made  by  the  Federal  Legislature  re- 
quired the  ratification  of  a  direct  popular  vote.  In  the 
Constitution  of  1874,  however,  the  province  of  the  Re- 
ferendum was  largely  extended,  for  it  was  provided  that  all 
Federal  laws,  as  well  as  general  Federal  decrees  which  were 
not  of  an  urgent  nature,  should  be  submitted  to  the  popular 


THE   REFERENDUM  23  I 

vote  on  the  demand  of  30,000  qualified  Voters  or  of  eight 
cantons.  A  remarkable  provision  was  also  inserted  in  this 
Constitution  giving  the  people  some  right  of  initiative,  as 
well  as  ratification,  in  matters  of  constitutional  revision.  If 
50,000  voters  demanded  it,  a  popular  vote  must  be  taken  on 
the  question  whether  the  Constitution  should  be  revised ;  and, 
if  it  was  in  favour  of  revision,  the  two  Federal  Councils  were 
renewed  for  the  purpose  of  undertaking  the  task.  A  revision 
of  the  Constitution  which  was  carried  in  1891  went  much 
further.  It  entitled  50,000  voters  to  obtain  a  popular  vote 
which  might  decree  directly  the  introduction  of  a  new  article, 
or  the  abolition  or  modification  of  an  old  article  of  the 
Helvetic  Constitution.1  In  all  these  ways  the  nation  directly 
intervenes  to  dictate  or  to  make  its  own  laws,  and  the  power 
of  the  representative  bodies  is  to  that  extent  abridged.  A 
corresponding  tendency  to  give  the  popular  vote  an  initiative 
in  legislation  has  appeared  in  some  of  the  separate  cantons. 
Laveleye  has  collected  an  interesting  series  of  examples 
of  the  manner  in  which  this  power  has  been  used.2  On  the 
whole  the  popular  vote,  when  it  extends  over  the  entire 
Confederation,  more  frequently  negatives  than  ratifies  the 
measures  submitted  to  it.  The  tendencies  which  it  most 
strongly  shows  are  a  dislike  to  large  expenditure,  a  dislike 
to  centralisation,  a  dislike  to  violent  innovation.  The  Re- 
ferendum is  more  frequently  employed  in  cantonal  than  in 
Federal  legislation.  Between  the  enactment  of  the  Constitu- 
tion of  1874  and  July  1891  about  130  laws  passed  through 
the  Federal  Chamber.  Of  these,  sixteen  only,  exclusive 
of  some  constitutional  modifications,  were  submitted  to  the 
popular  vote,  and,  of  these  sixteen,  eleven  were  rejected.  The 
chief  charges  that  have  been  brought  against  the  popular  vote 
are,  that  it  refuses  adequate  stipends  to  public  servants,  and 
is  very  niggardly  in  providing  for  works  of  public  utility, 
especially  when  they  relate  to  interests  that  are  not  easily 
appreciated  by  agricultural  peasants.     On  the  whole,  it  has 

1  Dareste,  Constitutions  Modemes,  ii.  058. 

2  Laveleye,  Le  Gouvcrnement  dans  la  Democratic,  ii.  140-70.  See,  too,  the 
chapter  on  the  Swiss  Referendum  in  Oherholtzer's  Referendum  in  America, 
pp.  10-14. 


232  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

been  decidedly  conservative,  though  there  have  been  a  few 
exceptions.  It  sanctioned  the  severely  graduated  taxation 
which  exists  in  some  of  the  Swiss  cantons  ;  but  in  Neuchatel 
the  system  of  graduated  taxation,  having  been  accepted  by 
the  Grand  Council,  was  rejected  by  the  Referendum,  and 
the  same  thing  has  happened  still  more  recently  in  the 
canton  of  Berne.1  One  remarkable  vote,  which  was  taken 
in  1879,  restored  to  the  different  cantons  the  power  of  intro- 
ducing capital  punishment  into  their  criminal  codes,  which 
had  been  taken  from  them  by  the  Constitution  of  1874.  A 
somewhat  curious  recent  vote  has  prohibited  the  Jews  from 
killing  their  cattle  in  the  way  prescribed  by  their  law.  In 
this  case  the  anti-Semitic  feeling  and  a  feeling  of  what  was 
supposed  to  be  humanity  to  animals  probably  blended, 
though  in  very  unequal  proportions. 

The  popularity  of  the  Referendum  in  Switzerland  is 
clearly  shown  by  the  rapidity  with  which  its  scope  has 
been  extended.  There  is  a  very  remarkable  movement  of 
the  same  kind  in  America,  where  in  State  politics  the 
tendency  runs  strongly  in  favour  of  a  substitution  of  direct 
popular  legislation  for  legislation  through  the  medium  of 
representative  bodies.  Every  change  in  a  State  Government 
is  now  made  by  summoning  a  convention  for  that  express 
purpose,  and  the  revision  determined  on  by  this  convention 
must  be  sanctioned  by  a  direct  popular  vote.  In  this  respect, 
therefore,  the  State  constitutions  of  the  United  States  rest 
on  exactly  the  same  basis  as  the  cantonal  governments  of 
Switzerland,  and  the  same  system  has  been  widely  extended 
to  various  forms  of  municipal  and  county  government.  In 
many  State  constitutions  it  is  prescribed  that  the  State 
capital  can  only  be  changed  by  a  popular  vote,  and  in  one 
or  two  constitutions  the  same  restriction  applies  to  transfers 

1  See  the  Report  on  Graduated  Taxation  in  Sivitzerland  presented  to  the 
Foreign  Office  in  1892,  p.  15.  Mr.  Buchanan,  the  author  of  this  Report,  mentions 
the  remarkable  fact  that  in  this  canton  '  the  Radical  party  was  returned  to 
power  by  a  very  large  majority  on  the  same  day  that  witnessed  the  rejection 
of  the  most  important  measure  which  it  had  passed  in  the  previous  session  of 
the  Cantonal  Grand  Council.'  This  shows  how  clearly  the  Referendum  vote 
can  be  kept  separate  from  party  questions. 


THE   REFERENDUM   IN   AMERICA  233 

of  great  local  institutions.  In  a  large  number  of  cases,  as  I 
have  already  noticed,  the  extreme  corruption  of  the  State 
legislatures  has  led  the  people  to  introduce  clauses  into 
their  State  constitutions  limiting  strictly  the  power  of  the 
legislatures  to  impose  taxes  or  incur  debts,  and  obliging 
them  to  submit  all  expenditure  beyond  the  assigned  limits 
to  a  direct  popular  vote. 

This  is,  however,  only  a  small  part  of  the  legislation 
which  is  now  carried  by  direct  popular  vote.  Conventions 
summoned  for  the  purpose  of  amending  the  State  constitu- 
tions have  taken  the  largest  possible  view  of  their  powers  : 
they  have  laid  down  rules  relating  not  only  to  organic 
constitutional  change,  but  to  every  important  subject  of 
legislation,  withdrawing  those  subjects  wholly,  or  partially, 
from  the  competency  of  the  State  legislatures,  and  every 
enactment  made  by  these  conventions  requires  for  its  validity 
the  ratification  of  a  direct  popular  vote. 

This  movement  is  but  little  known  in  England,  and 
although  I  have  already  referred  to  it  in  another  connection, 
it  is  sufficiently  important  to  warrant  some  repetition.  In 
England,  a  large  class  of  politicians  are  now  preaching  a 
multiplication  of  small  democratic  local  legislatures  as  the 
true  efflorescence  and  perfection  of  democracy.  In  America, 
no  fact  is  more  clearly  established  than  that  such  legislatures 
almost  invariably  fall  into  the  hands  of  caucuses,  wirepullers, 
and  professional  politicians,  and  become  centres  of  jobbing 
and  corruption.  One  of  the  main  tasks  of  the  best  American 
politicians  has,  of  late  years,  been  to  withdraw  gradually  the 
greater  part  of  legislation  from  the  influence  of  these  bodies, 
and  to  entrust  it  to  conventions  specially  elected  for  a  special 
purpose,  and  empowered  to  pass  particular  laws,  subject  to 
direct  ratification  by  a  popular  vote.  I  can  here  hardly  do 
better  than  to  quote  at  some  length  the  American  writer 
who  has  recently  treated  this  subject  with  the  fullest  know- 
ledge and  detail.  '  It  is  very  usual,'  writes  Mr.  Oberholtzer, 
'  for  conventions  in  late  years,  at  the  time  of  submitting 
constitutions,  to  submit  special  articles  or  sections  of  articles 
for  separate  consideration  by  the  people.     These  pertain  to 


234  DEMOCRACY   AND    LIBERTY 

subjects  upon  which  there  is  likely  to  be  much  public  feeling. 
.  .  .  Subjects  so  treated  by  the  conventions  have  been 
slavery,  woman's  suffrage,  the  prohibition  of  the  liquor 
traffic,  the  location  of  state  capitals,  &c.  .  .  .  There  has 
been  within  recent  times  a  radical  change  in  our  ideas  in 
regard  to  State  constitutions,  and  our  conceptions  as  to 
what  matters  are  suitable  for  a  place  in  these  instruments. 
At  the  beginning  they  were,  as  constitutions  are  supposed 
to  be,  statements  of  the  fundamentals  of  government.  .  .  . 
Now,  however,  very  different  constitutional  standards  obtain, 
and  in  the  States  of  every  section  of  the  country  the  same 
tendency  is  visible,  until  we  have  to-day  come  to  a  point 
when  our  State  constitutions  are  nothing  short  of  codes  of 
laws  giving  instruction  to  the  Legislature  and  the  other 
agents  of  Government  on  nearly  every  subject  of  general 
public  concern,  and  often  stating  the  methods  which  shall 
be  used  in  legislating,  if  not,  indeed,  actually  legislating,  on 
local  questions.  .  .  .  The  constitutions  have  been  the  re- 
positories for  much  of  the  legislation  which  before  was  left 
to  be  enacted  by  the  legislatures.' 1 

This  writer  then  proceeds  to  show  how  the  State 
constitutions  as  amended  by  the  conventions  now  make 
pamphlets  of  from  fifty  to  seventy-five  pages  long,  including 
almost  all  matters  of  education,  taxation,  expenditure,  and 
local  administration ;  the  organisation  and  regulation  of 
the  railroads,  of  the  militia,  of  the  trade  in  drink,  of 
the  penal  and  reformatory  institutions ;  clauses  prohibiting 
lotteries,  prize  fights,  or  duels,  establishing  a  legal  day's 
work,  even  defining  the  relations  of  husbands  and  wives, 
and  debtors  and  creditors. 

All  these  subjects  are  withdrawn  from  the  province  of 
the  State  legislature,  and  are  dealt  with  by  conventions 
ratified  by  a  direct  popular  vote.  '  Indeed,'  continues  our 
writer,  '  there  are  now  few  matters  which  are  subjects  for 
legislation  at  all  that,  according  to  the  new  conception  of 
a  constitution,  may  not  be  dealt  with  by  the  conventions. 
It  is  only  after  considering  the  nature  of  this  new  conception 
1  Oberholtzer,  The  Referendum  in  America,  pp.  38-44  (Philadelphia,  1893). 


THE   REFERENDUM   IN  AMERICA  235 

that  the  Referendum  as  exemplified  in  America  is  seen  to 
have  its  closest  likeness  to  the  institution  as  it  exists  to-day 
in  Switzerland.' 

'  Side  by  side  with  this  movement  to  make  codes  of  laws 
of  our  constitutions,  and  to  restrict  in  many  ways  the 
powers  of  the  State  legislatures,  has  grown  up  a  movement 
tending  directly  to  the  almost  entire  abolition  of  these 
bodies.  In  nearly  all  the  States,  by  the  development  of  the 
last  few  years,  the  conventions  have  substituted  biennial  for 
annual  legislative  sessions.  These  sessions,  now  being  held 
only  half  as  often,  are  further  limited  so  that  they  may  not 
extend  over  more  than  a  certain  number  of  days.  .  .  .  Those 
States  which  still  retain  the  system  of  annual  sessions — as, 
for  instance,  New  York  and  New  Jersey — constantly  find 
cause  for  dissatisfaction,  and  the  feeling  of  distrust  for  these 
bodies  is  taking  deeper  hold  of  the  people  every  year.  The 
feeling,  indeed,  has  reached  a  conviction  nearly  everywhere 
that  the  powers  of  the  legislatures  should  be  still  further 
curtailed,  and  in  but  one  State — Georgia — has  there  been 
shown  any  inclination  to  return  to  original  principles.' 

'  With  the  change  in  the  character  of  the  constitutions, 
has  of  necessity  come  a  change  in  the  character  of  constitu- 
tional amendments.  Statute  legislation,  of  late  years,  has 
been  more  and  more  disguised  in  these  amendments,  and 
sent  to  the  Referendum.  No  better  evidence  of  this  is  to  be 
found  than  in  the  frequency  of  amendments  to  prohibit  the 
manufacture  and  traffic  in  intoxicating  liquors,  a  subject  as 
far  removed  as  any  well  could  be  from  the  original  idea  as 
to  a  proper  matter  for  treatment  in  a  constitution.  Of  these 
elections,  in  nine  years  there  were  nineteen,  beginning  with 
Kansas,  Nov.  2,  1880,  and  closing  with  Connecticut,  Oct.  7, 
1889.' l 

These  passages  are,  I  think,  very  significant,  as  showing 
certain  tendencies  of  democracy  which  are  as  yet  little 
recognised  in  England,  but  which  are  probably  destined  to 

1  Oberholtzer,  The  Referendum  in  America,  pp.  45-40.  See,  too,  the  chapter 
of  Mr.  Bryce  on  Direct  Legislation  by  the  People,  The  American  Commonwealth, 
ii.  67-82. 


236  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

contribute  largely  towards  moulding  the  governments  of  the 
future.  I  must  refer  my  reader  to  the  curious  work  which  I 
am  citing  for  detailed  evidence  of  the  many  instances  in 
which,  in  different  States  of  the  American  Republic,  local 
measures  about  taxation  and  debt,  changes  in  the  State 
territorial  boundaries,  jurisdiction,  or  municipal  arrange- 
ments, or  in  the  suffrage,  the  system  of  representation,  or 
the  liquor  laws,  have  been  settled  by  a  direct  popular  vote  of 
the  same  character  as  the  Swiss  Referendum.  This  system 
appears  to  have  almost  wholly  arisen  in  America  since  1850,1 
and  it  has  grown  rapidly  in  public  favour.  It  has  been  the 
subject  of  many,  and  sometimes  conflicting,  decisions  in  the 
law  courts,  but  in  the  great  majority  of  States  it  has 
obtained  a  firm  legal  footing,  and  it  is  transforming  the  whole 
character  of  State  government. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  Referendum  is  now  begin- 
ning seriously  to  occupy  those  political  thinkers  who  can 
look  beyond  the  contests  of  the  hour  and  the  immediate 
interests  of  a  party.  Laveleye  has  devoted  much  attention 
to  it,2  and  it  was  much  discussed  in  Belgium  during  the 
recent  democratic  revision  of  the  Constitution.  It  was  pro- 
posed, as  a  safeguard  against  the  dangers  to  be  feared  from 
that  great  and  sudden  change,  that  the  King  should  possess 
the  power  of  submitting  measures  which  had  passed  through 
the  Chambers  to  a  direct  popular  vote  in  the  form  of  a 
Referendum.  The  proposal  was  (as  I  think,  unfortunately) 
defeated,  but  there  have  been  several  minor  indications  of 
its  growing  popularity.  The  Referendum  has,  in  more  than 
one  case,  been  employed  in  Belgium  in  questions  of  muni- 
cipal government.  The  vote  which  is  required  in  England 
for  the  establishment  in  any  borough  of  a  free  library  sup- 
ported by  the  rates,  and  the  system  of  local  option  so 
strenuously  advocated  by  many  temperance  reformers,  and 
which  a  growing  party  desires  to  apply  to  the  hours  of 
labour  in  different  trades,  belong  to-  this  category.  The 
Referendum   now   occupies  a  prominent  place  in  the  pro- 

1  Oberholtzer,  p.  105. 

*  Laveleye,  Le  Gouvemement  dans  la  Democratic,  ii.  169-70. 


THE   REFERENDUM  237 

gramme  of  the  Labour  party  in  Australia,  and  in  most  of 
the  Socialist  programmes  in  Europe,  while  its  incorporation 
in  the  British  Constitution  has  of  late  years  found  several 
advocates  of  a  very  different  order  of  opinion,  and  has 
been  supported  by  the  brilliant  pen  and  by  the  great 
authority  of  Professor  Dicey.1 

It  is  a  question  which  is  indeed  well  worthy  of  serious 
consideration.     If  such  a  system  could  be  made  to  work,  it 
would   almost   certainly   do   something   to    correct,   by   an 
eminently   democratic   method,    democratic   evils   that   are 
threatening   grave    calamities   to   the   Empire.      It   would 
make  it  possible  to  introduce  into  England  that  distinction 
between  constitutional   questions  and   ordinary   legislation 
which  in  America  and  in  nearly  all  continental  countries  not 
only   exists,   but  is  maintained  and  fortified   by  the  most 
stringent   provisions.     In   the   days   when   the   balance   of; 
power  between  the  different  elements  in  the  Constitution 
was    still  unimpaired,   when   the   strongly   organised   con- , 
servative  influences  of   class  and  property  opposed  an  in- 
superable barrier  to  revolutionary  change,  such  a  distinction  { 
might  be  safely  dispensed  with.     In  the  conditions  of  the/ 
present  day,   no   serious  thinker  can   fail   to  perceive   the 
enormous  danger  of  placing  the  essential  elements   of  the! 
Constitution  at  the  mercy  of  a  simple  majority  of  a  single ' 
Parliament,  a  majority,  perhaps,  composed  of  heterogeneous  I 
and  discordant  fractions,  combined  for  a  party  purpose,  and 
not  larger  than  is  required  to  pass   a   Bill  for  regulating( 
music-halls  or  protecting  sea-birds'  eggs. 

The  Referendum,  in  its  first  and  most  universal  applica- 
tion, is  intended  to  prevent  this  evil  by  making  it  impossible 
to  carry  constitutional  changes  without  the  direct  and 
deliberate  assent  of  the  people.  It  would  also  have  the 
immense  advantage  of  disentangling  issues,  separating  one 
great  question  from  the  many  minor  questions  with  which  / 
it  may  be  mixed.     Confused  or  blended  issues  are  among    •   /' 

1  See  an  admirable  article  by  Professor  Dicey  on  this  subject  in  the  Con-  Ke^fC* 

temporary  Review,  April  1890.     The  subject  has  been  also  ably  discussed  i»- 

the  National  Review  for  February,  March,  and  April  1894. 


238  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the   gravest  political  dangers  of  our   time.     Revolutionary 

and  predatory  measures  are  much  less  likely  to  be  carried 

on  their  merits  than  because  their  proposers  have  obtained 

a  majority   by  joining  with  them  a  sufficient   number   of 

other    measures    appealing    to    different    sections    of    the 

electorate.     With  the  multiplication  of  groups  this  evil  is 

constantly  increasing,  and  it  is  in  this  direction  that  many 

dangerous  politicians  are  mainly  working.     In  the  House  of 

Commons,  a  measure  may  often   be  carried  which  would 

never  have  had  a  chance  of  success  if  the  members  could 

•  <  vote  on  their  own  conviction  of  its  merits  ;  if  they  could  vote 

-  by  ballot ;  if  they  could  vote  as  they  thought  best,  without 

destroying  a  ministry,  or  endangering  some  wholly  different 

^^  _w_ .  measure   which   stood  lower  down  in  the  ministerial  pro- 

"f  (xfLub-^  y      gramme.     Motives   of   the   same   kind,    absolutely   distinct 

iit^S-i^f^l      from   an   approval   or   disapproval   of    one   great   measure, 

t*ic«x»  <w/ •~"t£'  govern  the  votes  of  the  electorate,  and  largely  determine  the 

c^u+jU-  <^,       course  of  parties  and  legislation.     It  would  be  a  great  gain 

^ax/^rtctj^Jty    to  English  politics  if  a  capital  question  could  be  decided  by 

^y^^^«_,     the   electorate  on  its  own  merits,  on  a  direct  and   simple 

y  issue.     If  the  nation  is  moving  towards  revolution,  it  should 

at  least  do  so  with  its  eyes  open,   and  with  a  clear  and 

'  "v      deliberate  intention. 

►$'■•...»»  It   would   probably   be  found  that   such  a   vote  would 

,     ..  prove  the  most  powerful  bulwark  against  violent  and  dis- 

'    .  honest  change.     It  would  bring  into  action  the  opinion  of 

f  \lluA  c*~      the  great  silent  classes  of  the  community,  and   reduce  to 

ft**  Ii^-rt/v*^     their   true   proportions   many  movements   to   which   party 

tT"  CvCL         combinations   or    noisy    agitations    have    given    a   wholly 

factitious  prominence.     It  might   restore   in  another   form 

something  of  the  old  balanced  Constitution,  which  has  now  so 

nearly  passed  away.     The  transcendently  important  function 

of  the  House  of  Lords  in  restraining  the  despotism  of  the 

Commons,  and  referring  great  changes  to  the  adjudication 

of  the  people,  is  now  rarely  exercised  and  violently  assailed. 

If,  when  the  House  of  Lords  differed  on  a  question  of  grave 

national  importance  from  the  Commons,  it  possessed,  or,  if 

possessing,  it  would  exercise,  the  power  of  submitting  that 


THE   REFERENDUM  239 

question  to  the  direct  vote  of  the  electorate,  the  most 
skilful  demagogue  would  find  it  difficult  to  persuade  the 
people  that  it  was  trampling  on  their  rights.  If  the  power 
of  insisting  on  a  Referendum  was  placed,  as  in  Switzerland, 
in  the  hands  of  a  large  body  of  voters,  it  would  still  form  a 
counterpoise  and  a  check  of  the  most  important  kind. 

It  is  contended  for  it  that  it  would  not  only  extricate  one 
capital  measure  from  the  crowd  of  minor  measures  with 
which  it  is  associated,  but  would  also  lift  it  above  the 
dominion  of  party,  and  thus  greatly  increase  the  probability 
of  its  representing  the  genuine  wishes  of  the  electorate.  It  h*.^%f(t  <-/ 
would  enable  the  nation  to  reject  a  measure  which  it  dislikes,   r/a>1^M^tJ, 

without  destroying  a  ministry  of  which  it  approves.     The   L—f \j 

vote  would  not  be  on  the  general  policy  of  the  Government.  ' 

It  would  be  exclusively  on  the  merits  of  a  single  measure,    <y^~v^ 
and  it  would  leave  the  ministerial  majority  in  the  House  of 
Commons   unchanged.      Few   persons    will    doubt    that   a 
measure  brought  in  this  manner  before  the  electorate  would 
be  voted  on  with  a  much  fuller  consideration  and  a  much 
more  serious  sense  of  responsibility  than  if  it  came  before 
them  mixed  up  with  a  crowd  of  other  measures,  and  insepa- 
rably connected  with  a  party  issue.     At  a  general  election,   ,.    '/  s  /  /~ 
the  great  majority  of  votes  are  given  for  a  party  or  a  states-  yz<*-^ 
man,  and  the  real  question  is,  which^side  should  rule  the     4*~C  IfcZ 
country^^JBy  the  Referendum  the  electorate  can  give   its       c^^Jdy 
deliberate  opinion,  not  upon  men,  but  upon  measures,  and  ' 

can  reject  a  measure  without  placing  the  Government  of  the 
country  into  other  hands. 

It  is  often  said  that  there  are  large  classes  of  questions 
on  which  such  a  popular  opinion  could  be  of  little  worth. 
To  this  I  have  no  difficulty  in  subscribing.  It  is  very  doubt- 
ful whether  a  really  popular  vote  would  have  ratified  the 
Toleration  Act  in  the  seventeenth  century,  or  the  abolition 
of  the  capital  punishment  of  witches  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, or  Catholic  Emancipation  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
or  a  crowd  of  other  measures  that  might  be  enumerated. 
It  is  now,  however,  too  late  to  urge  such  an  argument. 
Democracy  has  been  crowned  king.     The  voice  of  the  mul- 


f- 


240  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

titude  is  the  ultimate  court  of  appeal,  and  the  right  of  inde- 
/  '  /Ct~?f  pendent  judgment,  which  was  once  claimed  for  the  members 

'j  /  ' 9-i  J    of  Parliament,  is  now  almost  wholly  discarded.     If  the  elec- 
/**t*  ytorate  is  to  judge  policies,  it  is  surely  less  likely  to  err  if  it 

r*/     /     "    judges  them  on  a  clear  and  distinct  issue.     In  such  a  case  it 
/K4_*.  c/««~ <  ;    is  most  likely  to  act  independently,  and  not  at  the  dictation 
<**.  17. »  of  party  wirepullers.     It  is  to  be  remembered,  too,  that  the 

Al,  (ma.*£*J-  Referendum  is  not  intended  as  a  substitute  for  representa- 
tive government.  All  the  advantages  of  parliamentary 
debate  would  still  remain.  Policies  would  not  be  thrown 
before  the  electorate  in  a  crude,  undigested,  undeveloped 
state.  All  measures  would  still  pass  through  Parliament.and 
the  great  majority  would  be  finally  decided  by  Parliament. 
It  would  only  be  in  a  few  cases,  after  a  measure  had  been 
thoroughly  discussed  in  all  its  bearings,  after  the  two  Houses 
had  given  their  judgment,  that  the  nation  would  be  called 
to  adjudicate.  The  Referendum  would  be  an  appeal  from  a 
party  majority,  probably  made  up  of  discordant  groups,  to 
the  genuine  opinion  of  the  country.  It  would  be  an  appeal 
on  a  question  which  had  been  thoroughly  examined,  and  on 
which  the  nation  had  every  means  of  arriving  at  a  conclu- 
sion. It  would  be  a  clear  and  decisive  verdict  on  a  matter 
on  which  the  two  branches  of  the  Legislature  had  differed. 

It  is  argued  against  the  Referendum  that  many  of  the 
differences  between  the  two  Houses  are  differences  not  of 
principle,  but  of  detail.  A  Bill  is  before  Parliament  on  the 
general  policy  of  which  both  parties  and  both  Houses  are 
agreed,  but  one  clause  or  amendment,  dealing  with  a  sub- 
sidiary part,  produces  an  irreconcilable  difference.  The 
popular  vote,  it  has  been  said,  would  be  an  instrument 
wholly  unfit  to  discriminate  between  the  portion  of  a  Bill 
that  should  be  preserved  and  the  part  that  should  be  rejected. 
I  do  not,  however,  think  that  there  is  much  weight  in  this 
argument.  After  all  discussions  of  details,  a  Bill,  if  it  is  to 
become  law,  must  now  pass  through  its  third  reading,  and 
be  accepted  or  rejected  as  a  whole  by  a  single  vote.  All  that 
is  proposed  by  the  Referendum  is,  that  there  should  be  one 
more  step  before  its  enactment.     If  the   House  of   Lords 


THE  REFERENDUM  24 1 

objected  essentially  to  some  Bill  which  the  House  of  Com- 
mons had  more  than  once  adopted,  it  might  pass  that  Bill 
with  the  addition  of  a  clause  providing  that  it  should  not 
become  law  until  it  had  been  ratified  by  a  direct  popular 
vote.  If  the  two  Houses,  agreeing  upon  the  general  merits 
of  a  Bill,  differed  irreconcilably  upon  one  clause,  instead  of 
the  Bill  being  wholly  lost  the  Houses  might  agree  that  it 
should  be  passed  in  one  or  other  form  with  a  similar  addi- 
tion. By  this  simple  method  the  Referendum  might  be  put 
in  action,  and  as  the  appeal  would  be  to  the  existing  electo- 
rate, no  insuperable  difficulties  of  machinery  would  be  likely 
to  arise. 

Another  objection  is,  that  the  Referendum  would  have 
the  effect  of  lowering  the  authority  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
which  is  now,  in  effect,  the  supreme  legislative  authority  in 
the  Empire.  This  is  undoubtedly  true,  and,  in  my  own 
judgment,  it  would  be  one  of  its  great  merits.  The  old  say- 
ing of  Burghley,  that  '  England  never  can  be  ruined  but  by 
her  Parliament,'  was  never  more  true  than  at  the  present 
time,  and  the  uncontrolled,  unbalanced  authority  of  a  single 
representative  body  constituted  like  our  own  seems  to  me 
one  of  the  gravest  dangers  to  the  Empire.  In  our  age  we 
must  mainly  look  to  democracy  for  a  remedy.  According  to 
the  theories  which  now  prevail,  the  House  of  Commons  has 
absolutely  no  right  as  against  its  electors,  and  it  is  to  the 
electors  that  the  Referendum  would  transfer,  in  a  far  more 
efficient  manner  than  at  present,  the  supreme  authority  in 
legislation.  If  the  House  of  Commons  moves  during  the/J^/i^^^L^v 
next  quarter  of  a  century  as  rapidly  on  the  path  of  discredit!  /i^~ 

as  it  has  done  during  the  quarter  of   a  century   that   hasl  £ 

passed,  it  is  not  likely  that  many  voices  would  be  found  to/ 
echo  this  objection. 

The  foregoing  arguments  seem  to  me,  at  least,  to  show 
that  the  Referendum  is  not  a  question  to  be  lightly  dismissed. 
It  might  furnish  a  remedy  for  great  and  growing  evils  which 
it  is  very  difficult  to  cure,  and  it  would  do  so  in  a  way  which 
is  in  full  accordance  with  the  democratic  spirit  of  the  time. 
Further  than  this  I  should  not  venture  to  go.     To  carry  out 

vol.  1.  R 


242  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

successfully  a  scheme  so  widely  diverging  from  old  English 
modes  of  thought,  to  foresee  and  guard  against  the  possible 
evils  connected  with  it,  would  need  the  experience  and  dis- 
cussion of  many  minds.  It  is  obviously  much  easier  to  apply 
such  a  system  to  a  small  and  sparse  population  like  that  of 
Switzerland,  than  to  a  dense  population  like  our  own ;  and 
the  ascendency  of  party  has  so  long  been  supreme  in  Eng- 
land that  it  is  not  likely  that  the  Eeferendum  could  with- 
draw questions  wholly  from  its  empire.  It  is  probable  that 
the  vote  would  often  be  taken  under  the  glamour  of  a  great 
name  ;  its  result  would  be  looked  upon  as  a  party  .triumph, 
and  for  some  time  it  would  not  be  easy  to  persuade  the 
British  public  that  a  ministry  should  remain  in  power  when 
its  capital  measure  had  been  defeated.  The  experience, 
however,  of  Switzerland  and  America  shows  that,  when  the 
Referendum  takes  root  in  a  country,  it  takes  political  ques- 
tions, to  an  immense  degree,  out  of  the  hands  of  wirepullers, 
and  makes  it  possible  to  decide  them  mainly,  though  perhaps 
not  wholly,  on  their  merits,  without  producing  a  change  of 
government  or  of  party  predominance. 

Difficulties  arising  from  both  Houses  of  Parliament 
would,  no  doubt,  have  to  be  encountered.  The  House  of 
Commons  would  naturally  dislike  to  surrender  any  part  of 
its  power,  even  into  the  hands  of  its  masters.  The  House 
of  Lords,  as  at  present  constituted,  is  viewed  with  such 
suspicion  by  large  classes  that  they  would  object  to  a 
measure  which  might  increase  its  power,  even  though  that 
increase  was  wholly  derived  from  association  with  the  most 
extreme  form  of  democracy.  The  great  and  pressing  ques- 
tion of  the  reform  of  the  Upper  House  would  probably  have 
to  precede  the  adoption  of  the  Eeferendum. 

It  seems  to  me  also  clear,  that  in  a  country  like  England 
the  Referendum  could  never  become  an  habitual  agent  in 
legislation.  Perpetual  popular  votes  would  be  an  intolerable 
nuisance.  To  foreign  politics  the  Referendum  would  be 
very  inapplicable,  and  in  home  politics  it  ought  only  to  be 
employed  on  rare  and  grave  occasions.  It  should  be  restricted 
to  constitutional  questions  altering  the  disposition  of  power 


THE   REFERENDUM  243 

in  the  State,  with,  perhaps,  the  addition  of  important  ques- 
tions on  which,  during  more  than  one  Parliament,  the  two 
Houses  of  the  Legislature  had  differed. 

Within  these  limits  it  appears  to  me  full  of  promise,  and 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  political  thinkers  may  keep  their 
minds  open  upon  the  subject.  For  some  considerable  time 
to  come  all  questions  are  likely  to  be  submitted  to  the  ad- 
judication of  the  greatest  number,  and  statesmen  must  accept 
the  fact,  and  endeavour  to  make  it  as  little  dangerous  as  pos- 
sible. It  has  been  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  ablest  and  most 
successful  politicians  of  our  time  that,  by  adopting  a  very 
low  suffrage,  it  would  be  possible  to  penetrate  below  the 
region  where  crotchets  and  experiments  and  crude  Utopias 
and  habitual  restlessness  prevail,  and  to  reach  the  strong, 
settled  habits,  the  enduring  tendencies,  the  deep  conservative 
instincts  of  the  nation.  Such  an  idea  was  evidently  present 
in  the  minds  both  of  Louis  Napoleon  and  of  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  and  it  probably  largely  influenced  the  great  statesman 
who  based  the  German  Constitution  on  universal  suffrage. 
How  far  it  may  be  true  I  do  not  here  discuss.  It  is  probable 
that  the  recent  turn  in  English  politics  has  added  consider- 
ably to  the  number  of  those  who  believe  in  it.  It  seems 
to  me,  at  least,  certain  that  popular  opinion  is  likely  to  be 
least  dangerous  if  it  is  an  unsophisticated  opinion  on  a  direct 
issue,  as  far  as  possible  uninfluenced  by  agitators  and  pro- 
fessional politicians.  It  is  very  possible  that  its  tendencies 
might  be  towards  extreme  Conservatism ;  but  the  pendulum 
has  moved  so  long  and  so  violently  in  the  opposite  direction 
that  a  period  of  pause,  or  even  of  reaction,  might  not  appear 
an  evil. 

The  welcome  the  reader  will  extend  to  such  considera- 
tions will  depend  largely  upon  his  view  of  the  existing  state 
of  the  Constitution.  If  he  believes  that  parliamentary  go- 
vernment in  its  present  form  is  firmly  established,  working 
well,  and  likely  to  endure,  he  will  naturally  object  to  any 
change  which  would  alter  fundamentally  the  centre  of  power. 
If  he  believes  that  some  of  the  most  essential  springs  of  the 
British  Constitution  have  been  fatally  weakened,  and  that 

R  2 


244  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

our  system  of  government  is  undergoing  a  perilous  process 
of  disintegration,  transformation,  and  deterioration,  he  will 
be  inclined  to  look  with  more  favour  on  possible  remedies, 
even  though  they  be  very  remote  from  the  national  habits 
and  traditions. 

Another  method  by  which  the  evils  of  a  decaying 
parliamentary  system  may  be  in  some  degree  mitigated  is 
by  the  extension  of  the  powers  of  committees.  The  only 
possible  manner  in  which  a  large  assembly  of  men  can 
directly  and  efficiently  discharge  much  business  is  by  the 
strict  organisation  of  parties,  which  throws  the  whole 
initiation  and  direction  into  a  few  competent  hands.  But 
under  the  best  organisation  a  large  assembly  is  unfit  for  the 
investigation  of  details,  and  when  the  discipline  of  Parlia- 
ment and  of  parties  gives  way  its  incapacity  becomes  very 
manifest.  In  the  United  States,  as  is  well  known,  congres- 
sional, or,  as  we  should  say,  parliamentary,  legislation  is 
almost  entirely  in  the  hands  of  committees.  Fifty  or  sixty 
committees  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  a  somewhat 
smaller  number  of  committees  of  the  Senate,  are  appointed 
at  the  beginning  of  every  Congress.  Each  of  them  usually 
consists  of  about  eleven  members  ;  they  sit  for  two  years, 
and  they  are  entrusted  with  unlimited  powers  of  curtailing, 
altering,  or  extending  the  Bills  that  come  before  them.  They 
do  not  receive  those  Bills  after  discussion  in  the  Chambers. 
Both  the  first  and  second  readings  are  granted  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  it  is  in  the  committees  that  Bills  receive  their 
full  investigation  and  definite  shape.  The  deliberations  there 
are  usually  secret,  and  nearly  always  unreported.  The  great 
majority  of  the  Bills  are  stifled  in  committee,  either  by  long 
postponement  or  by  unfavourable  reports.  Those  which  are 
favourably  reported  have  to  receive  the  sanction  of  Congress; 
but  they  are  usually  only  discussed  in  the  shortest  and  most 
cursory  manner,  and  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  the  task  of 
framing  legislation  lies  in  reality,  not  with  the  Chambers, 
but  with  these  small  delegated  bodies.  Mr.  Bryce  has 
described  the  process  in  detail,  and   he  observes  that  '  the 


AMERICAN   COMMITTEES  245 

House  has  become  not  so  much  a  legislative  assembly  as  a 
huge  panel  from  which  committees  are  selected.' ' 

The  system  is  extremely  unlike  our  own.  The  ministers 
do  not  sit  in  Congress,  and  therefore  cannot  guide  it ;  and 
they  do  not  depend  for  their  tenure  of  office  upon  its  approval. 
The  Speaker,  who  in  England  represents  the  most  absolute 
impartiality,  is,  in  America,  the  most  powerful  of  party 
leaders,  for  he  nominates  the  members  of  the  committees,  by 
whom  legislation  is  virtually  made.  As  Mr.  Bryce  observes, 
Congress  loses  its  unity  and  much  of  its  importance,  and  par- 
liamentary oratory  dwindles  into  insignificance.  The  public, 
who  know  that  the  real  business  of  legislation  is  transacted 
in  small  secret  bodies,  come  to  look  on  Congress  and  its 
proceedings  with  great  indifference ;  and  legislation  being 
mainly  the  product  of  a  number  of  small  and  independent 
bodies,  is  much  wanting  in  cohesion  and  harmony. 

If  these  were  the  only  consequences,  they  might  readily  be 
accepted.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  would  appear  to  many  of 
us  positive  advantages.  Unfortunately,  the  corruption,  log- 
rolling, and  intrigue  that  so  deeply  infect  American  politics 
appear  to  be  abundantly  displayed  in  the  work  of  the  com- 
mittees.2 

1  Since  Mr.  Bryce's  book  appeared,  an  American  politician,  discussing  the 
decline  of  oratory  in  the  United  States,  says :  '  A  change  in  the  method  of  con- 
ducting business  in  legislative  bodies,  which  has  become  general,  must  also  be 
taken  into  account.  Legislation  by  committees,  instead  of  by  the  whole  body,  is 
the  prevailing  method  of  the  present  day.  Almost  the  entire  consideration  and 
shaping  of  the  most  important  measures  which  now  come  before  legislative  bodies 
is  done  in  the  committee-room  before  they  are  reported  for  action.  Little  more 
than  ratification  of  committee  work  remains  after  a  measure  leaves  the  com- 
mittee-room. There  are  exceptions,  but  this  is  the  rule.  Consequently,  the 
opportunity  for  debate  is  greatly  abridged,  and  for  extended  oration  almost 
entirely  cut  off.  .  .  .  Add  to  this  modern  method  that  other  invention  of  recent 
years,  which  takes  up  legislation  thus  prepared  in  the  committee-room,  and 
puts  it  in  charge  of  another  committee  of  three,  to  determine  beforehand  when 
it  shall  be  considered  by  the  bodies  who  are  to  pass  upon  it,  for  how  long  a  time, 
and  in  what  shape,  and  by  what  number  of  supporters  and  opponents,  to  be 
selected  as  prize  combatants  are  selected  by  the  opposing  sides  in  a  ring,  and 
the  hour  by  the  clock  when  such  consideration  shall  cease— does  any  one  con- 
ceive it  possible  that  anything  deserving  the  name  of  oratory  or  eloquence  can 
be  the  outcome  of  such  a  contest  ?  '  (The  Hon.  Henry  Dawes  in  Tlie  Forum 
October  1894,  p.  153). 

"  Bryce's  American  Commonwealth,  i.  204-18 


246  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

The  system,  however,  is  essentially  different  from  par- 
liamentary government.  It  places  the  task  of  framing  laws 
in  the  hands  of  small  groups  of  shrewd  business  men,  who 
work  without  any  of  the  disturbing  influences  of  publicity ; 
and  it  diminishes,  though  it  certainly  does  not  destroy,  the 
injurious  influence  on  public  business  of  anarchy  and  deterio- 
ration in  Congress.  In  France  a  different  system  prevails, 
but  most  legislation  is  practically  done  in  '  bureaux,'  or  sub- 
divisions of  the  Chamber,  which  are  appointed  for  the  con- 
sideration of  particular  subjects.  In  England  the  action  of 
the  whole  House  is  much  greater ;  but  the  committee  system 
appears  to  be  the  healthiest  part  of  our  present  parliamentary 
system,  and  it  has  been  considerably  extended  by  the  adoption 
of  standing  committees  in  the  House  of  Commons  in  1883, 
and  in  the  House  of  Lords  in  1891. x  The  committees  are 
of  several  kinds.  There  are  the  select  committees,  which 
are  appointed  by  either  House  for  the  purpose  of  investigating 
complex  subjects,  and  which  have  the  power  of  calling  wit- 
nesses before  them.  The  new  Standing  Committees  of  Law 
and  Trade,  commonly  called  grand  committees,  consist  of 
from  sixty  to  eighty  members,  representing  different  sections 
of  the  House,  and  they  generally  include  Cabinet  ministers. 
Various  Bills  are  referred  to  them  from  the  committee  stage 
by  a  process  of  devolution,  and  their  divisions  on  disputed 
points  are  duly  recorded.  Besides  these  there  is  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Accounts,  which,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
departmental  officials,  exercises  a  close  and  useful  supervision 
over  the  details  of  finance.2 

It  is  probable  that  the  power,  and  perhaps  the  number, 
of  the  committees  will  be  increased,  and  that  in  this  manner 
the  much-impaired  business  capacity  of  the  House  may  be 
considerably  recruited.  The  process  of  devolution  is  likely, 
in  some  manner  and  under  some  conditions  and  restrictions, 
to  be  extended,  either  by  special  parliamentary  committees, 
or  in  other  ways,  to  bodies  representing  different  portions  of 

1  May's  Parliamentary  Procedure  (Palgrave's  edition). 

2  There  is  an  excellent  account  of  the  working  of  these  committees  in  Sir  E. 
Temple's  Life  in  Parliament. 


DEVOLUTION— VOTES  OF  CENSURE       247 

the   Empire.      The   expense  of   carrying  to  London  great 
masses  of  non-political  private  business  which  might  be  as 
efficiently  and  much  more  cheaply  settled  at  home,  is  a  real 
and  serious  grievance  ;  and  the  obstruction  to  parliamentary 
business  caused  by  the  introduction  of  many  matters  that 
ought  never  to  be  brought  before  the  supreme  legislature  of 
an  empire,  is  now  keenly  felt.     Sooner  or  later  some  change 
in  this  system  must  be  effected,  and  a  much  larger  propor- 
tion of  Irish  and  Scotch  business  than  at  present  is  likely  to 
be  entrusted  to  bodies  specially  representing  those  countries. 
I  do  not  propose  to  enter  at  large  into  this  question.    The  two 
limitations  that  should  be  observed  are,  I  think,  sufficiently 
obvious.     The  one  is,  that  no  body  should  be  set  up  which  %^/u 
would  be  likely  to  prove  in  times  of  danger  a  source  of  weak-  /Lw> 
_ness  or  division  to  the  Empire.     The  other  is,  that  Parlia-     """* 
ment  should  never  so  far  abdicate  its  supreme  duty  of  doing  tift^*^ 
justice  to  all  sections  of  the  people  as  to  set  up  any  body  that  LC^^. 
is  likely  to  oppress  or  plunder  any  class.     If  these  two  condi-  ^^^ 
tions  are  fully  and  efficiently  secured,  local  government  may 
be  wisely  and  largely  extended.    There  is,  however,  no  greater 
folly  in  politics  than  to  set  up  a  political  body  without  con- 
sidering the  hands  into  which  it  is  likely  to  fall,  or  the  spirit 
in  which  it  is  likely  to  be  worked. 

One  change  in  the  internal  regulation  of  Parliament  has 
also  been  powerfully  urged  for  the  purpose  of  correcting  the 
instability  and  intrigue  which  a  multiplication  of  independent 
parliamentary  groups  is  certain  to  produce.  It  is,  that  a 
government  should  not  consider  itself  bound  either  to  re- 
sign or  dissolve  on  account  of  an  adverse  division  due,  per- 
haps, to  a  chance  or  factious  combination  of  irreconcilable 
minorities,  but  should  retain  office  until  a  formal  vote  of 
want  of  confidence  indicates  clearly  the  desire  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  It  does  not,  however,  appear  to  me  that 
this  change  would  be,  on  the  whole,  an  improvement. 
The  fact  that  it  has  never  been  made  in  France,  where  the 
evil  of  instability  in  the  government  arising  from  the  group 
system  in  Parliament  has  attained  its  extreme  limits,  shows 
how  difficult  it  would  be  to  implant  it  in  parliamentary  insti- 


248  DEMOCEACY   AND   LIBERTY 

tutions.  A  defeat  in  the  House  of  Lords  does  not  overthrow 
a  ministry  ;  a  defeat  in  the  House  of  Commons  on  a  par- 
ticular question  may  be  always  remedied,  if  the  House  desires 
it,  by  a  vote  of  confidence.  If  the  change  we  are  consider- 
ing would  mitigate  the  evil  of  parliamentary  disintegration, 
it  would,  as  it  seems  to  me,  aggravate  the  not  less  serious 
evil  of  the  despotism  of  party  caucuses.  It  continually  hap- 
pens that  a  government,  long  before  the  natural  duration  of 
a  Parliament  has  expired,  loses  the  confidence  of  the  House 
of  Commons  and  of  the  country,  and  it  is  very  undesirable 
that,  under  these  circumstances,  it  should  continue  in  office. 
It  is,  however,  seldom  likely  that  its  majority  would  be  de- 
stroyed by  a  formal  vote  of  want  of  confidence.  Liberals 
would  hesitate  to  vote  definitely  as  Tories,  or  Tories  as 
Liberals,  and  the  pressure  of  party  organisations  would  over- 
ride genuine  opinions.  It  is  on  side-issues  or  incidental 
questions  that  the  true  feeling  of  the  House  is  most  -likely  to 
be  displayed  and  a  bad  ministry  defeated. 

After  all  due  weight  has  been  given  to  the  possible 
remedies  that  have  been  considered,  it  still  seems  to  me  that 
the  parliamentary  system,  when  it  rests  on  manhood  suf- 
frage, or  something  closely  approaching  to  manhood  suffrage, 
is  extremely  unlikely  to  be  permanent.  This  was  evidently 
the  opinion  of  Tocqueville,  who  was  strongly  persuaded  that 
the  natural  result  of  democracy  was  a  highly  concentrated, 
enervating,  but  mild  despotism.1  It  is  the  opinion  of  many 
of  the  most  eminent  contemporary  thinkers  in  France  and 
Germany,  and  it  is,  I  think,  steadily  growing  in  England. 
This  does  not  mean  that  Parliaments  will  cease,  or  that  a  wide 
suffrage  will  be  abolished.  It  means  that  Parliaments,  if 
constructed  on  this  type,  cannot  permanently  remain  the 
supreme  power  among  the  nations  of  the  world.  Sooner  or 
later  they  will  sink  by  their  own  vices  and  inefficiencies  into 
a  lower  plane.  They  will  lose  the  power  of  making  and 
unmaking  ministries,  and  it  will  be  found  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  establish  some  strong  executive  independently  of 
their   fluctuations.     Very   probably  this  executive  may  be 

1  La  Dimocratie  en  Amirique,  4me  partie. 


LOCAL   GOVERNMENT  249 

established,  as  in  America  and  under  the  French  Empire, 
upon  a  broad  basis  of  an  independent  suffrage.  Very  possibly 
upper  chambers,  constituted  upon  some  sagacious  plan,  will 
again  play  a  great  restraining  and  directing  part  in  the 
government  of  the  world.  Few  persons  who  have  watched 
the  changes  that  have  passed  over  our  own  House  of 
Commons  within  the  last  few  years  will  either  believe  or 
wish  that  in  fifty  years'  time  it  can  exercise  the  power  it  now 
does.  It  is  only  too  probable  that  some  great  catastrophe 
or  the  stress  of  a  great  war  may  accelerate  the  change. 

I  do  not  speak  of  the  modern  extensions  of  local  govern- 
ment in  the  counties  or  towns  as  diminishing  the  authority 
of  democratic  Parliaments.  These  extensions  have  been 
themselves  great  democratic  triumphs,  transferring  to  bodies 
resting  on  a  very  low  suffrage  powers  which  were  either 
in  the  hands  of  persons  nominated  by  the  Crown,  or  in 
the  hands  of  persons  whose  election  depended  on  a  high 
property  qualification,  and  especially  on  the  possession  of 
landed  property.  The  preceding  pages  will  have  abundantly 
illustrated  the  dangers  that  are  to  be  feared  from  unchecked 
democracy  in  this  field.  In  England  there  is  a  great  belief  in 
the  educational  value  of  this  kind  of  government.  It  is  true 
that  an  honest,  well-meaning  local  government  may  begin  by 
making  many  mistakes,  but  will  soon  acquire  the  habits  of 
good  government.  On  the  other  hand,  if  local  government 
falls  into  the  hands  of  corrupt,  self-seeking,  dishonest  men, 
it  will  promote  quite  other  habits,  and  will  have  very  little 
tendency  to  improve.  Prolonged  continuity  of  jobbing  is  not 
an  education  in  which  good  statesmen  are  likely  to  be  formed, 
and  few  things  have  done  so  much  to  demoralise  American 
political  life  as  the  practices  that  prevail  in  municipal 
government  and  in  the  management  of  '  the  machine.' 

On  the  whole,  it  can  hardly  be  questioned  that,  in  spite  of 
great  complexities  and  incoherences  of  administration,  and 
of  many  strange  anomalies,  England  has  been  for  many 
years  singularly  happy  in  her  local  governments.  The 
country  gentlemen  who  chiefly  managed  her  county  govern- 
ment, at  least  discharged  their  task  with  great  integrity,  and 


250  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

with  a  very  extensive  and  minute  knowledge  of  the  districts 
they  ruled.  They  had  their  faults,  but  they  were  much 
more  negative  than  positive.  They  did  few  things  which 
they  ought  not  to  have  done,  but  they  left  undone  many 
things  which  they  ought  to  have  done.  There  was  in  general 
no  corruption ;  gross  abuses  were  very  rare,  and  public 
money  was,  on  the  whole,  wisely  and  economically  expended ; 
but  evils  that  might  have  been  remedied  were  often  left  un- 
touched, and  there  was  much  need  of  a  more  active  reform- 
ing spirit  in  county  administration. 

Our  town  governments,  also,  since  the  great  Municipal 
Act  of  1835,  have  been,  on  the  whole,  very  successful.  They 
have  not  fallen  into  the  hands  of  corrupt  politicians  like  the 
greater  number  of  the  municipal  governments  in  America  ; 
the  statesmen  of  the  period  of  the  first  Reform  Bill  never 
failed  to  maintain  a  close  connection  between  the  power  of 
taxing  and  the  obligation  of  paying  rates  and  taxes^  and  the 
strong  controlling  influence  they  gave  to  property  in  muni- 
cipal government,  and  in  the  administration  of  the  poor 
laws,  secured  an  honest  employment  of  public  money.  The 
first  and  most  vital  rule  |of  all  good  government  is,  that 
those  who  vote  taxes  should  contribute,  to  some  appreciable 
extent,  to  paying  them ;  that  those  who  are  responsible  for 
the  administration  of  affairs  should  themselves  suffer  from 
maladministration.  This  cardinal  rule  is,  if  possible,  even 
more  applicable  to  local  than  to  imperial  government.  Im- 
perial government  is  largely  concerned  with  wide  political 
issues.  Local  government  is  specially,  and  beyond  all 
things,  a  machine  for  raising  and  employing  money.  In 
every  sound  company  the  directors  must  qualify  for  their 
post  by  being  large  shareholders,  and  the  shareholders  who 
have  the  largest  interest  have  the  greatest  number  of  votes. 
This  is  the  first  and  most  obvious  rule  for  obtaining'  an 
honest  and  frugal  administration  of  money,  and  the  success 
and  purity  of  English  local  government  have  been  largely 
due  to  the  steadiness  with  which  the  great  statesmen  who 
followed  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  acted  upon  it. 

It  has  been  reserved  for  the  present  generation  of  states- 


LOCAL   GOVERNMENT  25  I 

men  to  do  all  that  is  in  their  power  to  destroy  it.  It  has 
come  to  be  regarded  as  a  Liberal  principle  that  it  is  a  wrong 
thing  to  impose  rating  or  property  qualifications  on  those 
who  vote  rates  and  govern  property.  Thus,  by  the  Act 
of  1894  all  property  qualifications  for  vestrymen  and  poor- 
law  guardians  have  been  abolished.  The  rating  qualifi- 
cation for  voting  is  no  longer  necessary.  The  ex-officio  and 
nominated  guardians,  who  were  always  men  of  large  expe- 
rience and  indisputable  character,  have  been  swept  away ; 
the  obviously  equitable  rule  that  ratepayers  should  have 
votes  for  guardians  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  their 
contributions  has  been  replaced  by  the  rule  of  one  voter, 
one  vote.  The  old  property  qualifications  for  the  electors  of 
district  boards  have  been  abolished,  and  at  the  same  time 
those  boards  have  acquired  additional  powers  over  different 
kinds  of  property.  With  many  politicians  the  evident  ideal 
of  city  government  is,  that  a  great  owner  of  town  property, 
who  necessarily  pays  the  largest  proportion  of  the  municipal 
taxation,  whose  interests  are  most  indissolubly  associated 
with  the  prosperity  of  the  city,  and  who,  from  his  very 
prominence,  is  specially  likely  to  be  made  the  object  of  pre- 
datory attacks,  should  have  no  more  voice  than  the  humblest 
tenant  on  his  estate  in  imposing,  regulating,  distributing,  and 
applying  municipal  taxation. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  system  more  certain 
to  lead  to  corruption  and  dishonesty  ;  and  other  circumstances 
contribute  to  enhance  the  danger.  If  taxation  were  as 
limited  in  its  amount,  and  public  expenditure  restricted  to 
as  few  objects  as  in  the  past  generation,  it  would  signify 
comparatively  little  how  its  burden  was  distributed.  But 
one  of  the  most  marked  tendencies  of  our  time  is  the 
enlargement  of  the  area  of  State  functions  and  the  amount 
of  State  expenditure.  The  immense  increase  of  local  taxation, 
and  especially  local  debt,  that  has  taken  place  within  a  very 
few  years  has  long  excited  the  alarm  of  the  most  serious 
politicians  in  England.  The  complications  of  local  taxation 
are  so  great  that  it  is  probably  not  possible  to  obtain  com- 
plete accuracy  on  this  subject,  but  there  can  be  no  question 


252  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  the  appalling  rapidity  with  which  the  movement  has 
advanced.  In  a  very  useful  paper  published  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Cobden  Club  in  1882,  it  was  calculated  that 
the  local  indebtedness  of  England  and  Wales  had  risen 
between  1872  and  1880  from  80,000,000Z.  to  137,096,6072.! 
In  1891,  it  was  stated  in  the  House  of  Commons  to  be 
195,400,0002.  In  the  following  year  it  was  stated  that,  in 
jfche  preceding  fifteen  years,  the  national  debt  had  fallen  from 
768,945,7572.  to  689,944,0262.,  but  that  during  the  same 
period  the  municipal  debt  had  risen  from  92,820,1002.  to 
198,671, 3122.2  There  seems  no  sign  of  this  tendency  having 
spent  its  force,  and  schemes  involving  vast  increases  of 
municipal  expenditure  are  manifestly  in  the  air.  It  is  at 
this  time  that  the  policy  of  separating  the  payment  of  taxes 
from  the  voting  of  taxes  is  most  largely  adopted.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  very  tendencies  that  make  it  so  dangerous 
increase  its  popularity,  and  therefore  its  attractiveness  to 
politicians,  whose  great  object  is  to  win  votes  and  tide  over 
an  election. 

The  enormous  increase  which  has  also  taken  place  in  the 
State  taxation  of  nearly  every  civilised  country  during  the  last 
forty-five  years  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  disquieting  features 
of  our  time.  It  is  to  be  attributed  to  several  different  causes. 
The  worst  is  that  gigantic  increase  of  national  debts  and  of 
military  expenditure  which  has  taken  place  in  Europe  since 
the  Revolution  of  1848.  National  indebtedness  has  reached 
a  point  that  makes  the  bankruptcy  of  many  nations  an  almost 
inevitable  result  of  any  prolonged  European  war ;  and  the 
immense  burden  of  unproductive  expenditure  that  is  drawn 
from  every  nation  for  the  purpose  of  paying  the  national 
creditors,  gives  revolutionary  literature  a  great  part  of  its 
plausibility,  and  forms  one  of  the  strongest  temptations  to 
national  dishonesty.  The  incentive  is  the  stronger  as  most 
national  debts  are  largely  held  by  foreigners,  and  as  there  is 
no  international  organisation  corresponding  to  a  bankruptcy 

1  local  Government  and  Taxation  of  the  United  Kingdom  (Cobden  Club), 
p.  480. 

8  See  some  facts  collected  by  Lord  Wemyss  in  an  Address  on  Modem  Muni- 
cipalism  (1893),  p.  11. 


MILITARY   AND   NAVAL   EXPENDITURE  253 

court  for  coercing  or  punishing  a  defaulting  nation.  Of  this 
military  expenditure  it  will  here  be  sufficient  to  say  that  it  is 
far  from  measured  by  the  direct  taxes  which  are  raised  ; 
and  the  withdrawal  of  a  vast  proportion  of  human  effort  from 
productive  employment,  and  the  enslavement,  during  the 
best  part  of  their  lives,  of  a  vast  proportion  of  the  popula- 
tion of  Europe,  have  probably  contributed,  as  much  as  any 
other  single  cause,  to  the  revolutionary  tendencies  of  our 
time. 

England  need  not,  I  think,  take  to  herself  much  blame  in 
these  respedts.  If  she  has  not  done  all  that  she  might  have 
done  since,  the  great  French  war  to  diminish  her  debt,  she 
has  at  least  done  very  much,  and  far  more  than  any  other 
European  country,  while  her  military  and  naval  expenditure 
has  usually  been  rather  below  than  above  what  is  needed 
for  her  absolute  *  security.  The  growth,  however,  of  this 
expenditure  has  been  very  great.  Between  1835  and  1888 
it  is  said  to  have  increased  by  no  less  than  173  per  cent.1 
This  is,  however,  mainly  due  to  the  gigantic  armaments 
on  the  Continent,  and  to  the  enormous  increase  in  the  cost 
and  the  constant  changes  in  the  type  of  ships  and  guns. 
The  burden  is  a  terrible  one ;  but  every  one  who  will  look 
facts  in  the  face  must  recognise  that  the  existence  at  each 
given  moment  of  an  English  fleet  of  overwhelming  power 
is  the  first  and  most  vital  condition  of  the  security  of  the 
nation.  An  island  Power  which  cannot  even  support  its 
population  with  food ;  which  depends  for  its  very  existence 
on  a  vast  commerce ;  which  from  the  vastness  of  its  domi- 
nions and  interests  is  constantly  liable  to  be  involved  in 
dispute  with  other  Powers,  and  which  presents  peculiar 
temptation  to  an  invader,  could  on  no  other  condition  main- 
tain her  independence,  and  it  is  a  healthy  sign  that  English 
public  opinion  realises  the  transcendent  importance  of  the 
fact,  and  has  more  than  once  forced  it  upon  politicians  who 
were  neglecting  it. 

What  may  be  the  final  result  of  this  growing  expen- 
diture no  man  can  say.     It  is  possible,  and  by  no  means 

1  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Trait?  des  finances,  ii.  1G8. 


254  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

improbable,  that  the  increasing  power  of  guns  and  tor- 
pedoes may  make  large  ships  useless  in  war,  and  may  again 
revolutionise,  and  perhaps  greatly  cheapen,  naval  war. 
It  is  possible,  and  perhaps  probable,  that  the  means  of 
defence  may  obtain  an  overwhelming  preponderance  over 
the  means  of  attack.  Small  and  poor  nations  which  have 
taken  an  honourable  part  in  the  naval  history  of  the  past 
find  it  impossible  to  enter  into  serious  competition  with 
the  costly  navies  of  the  present,  and  it  is  probable  that  the 
richest  nations  will,  sooner  or  later,  find  it  impossible  without 
ruin  to  maintain  at  once  the  position  of  a  first-rate  military 
and  a  first-rate  naval  Power.  The  time  may  come  when 
some  great  revolution  of  opinion  or  some  great  internal  con- 
vulsion may  check  or  reverse  the  tendency  of  the  last  half- 
century,  and  bring  about  a  great  movement  for  disarmament. 
Till  that  time  arrives  there  can  be  little  hope  of  any  serious 
diminution  of  this  great  branch  of  national  expenditure. 

I  know  few  things  more  melancholy  or  more  instructive 
than  to  compare  the  present  state  of  Europe  in  this  respect 
with  the  predictions  of  the  Manchester  school,  and  of  the 
writers  who,  within  the  memory  of  many  of  us,  were  looked 
upon  as  the  most  faithful  representatives  of  advanced  thought. 
Some  of  my  readers  will  doubtless  remember  the  enthusiasm 
and  admiration  with  which,  in  1857,  the  first  volume  of 
Buckle's  great  History  was  welcomed.  In  spite  of  much 
crudeness,  many  shortcomings,  and  great  dogmatism,  it  was  a 
book  well  fitted  to  make  an  epoch  on  its  subject.  The  vast 
horizons  it  opened  ;  the  sweep  and  boldness  of  its  generalisa- 
tions ;  its  admirable  literary  qualities,  and  the  noble  enthu- 
siasm for  knowledge,  for  progress,  and  for  liberty  that  animated 
it,  captivated  and  deeply  influenced  a  whole  generation  of 
young  men.  One  of  the  most  confident  of  Buckle's  predic- 
tions was,  that  the  military  spirit  had  had  its  day ;  that  the 
'  commercial  spirit,'  which  is  now  '  invariably  pacific,'  would 
speedily  reduce  it  to  insignificance  ;  that,  although  it  might 
linger  for  a  time  among  the  most  backward  and  semi- 
barbarous  nations  of  Europe,  like  Russia  and  Turkey,  all 
the  higher  talent,  all  the  stronger  ambitions,  all  the  force 


ANNEXATIONS  255 

of  public  opinion  in  the  civilised  world,  would  be  steadily 
against  it. 

The  American  Civil  War,  the  war  of  France  and  Italy 
against  Austria,  the  war  of  Prussia  and  Austria  against 
Denmark,  the  war  of  Prussia  and  Italy  against  Austria,  the 
great  Franco-German  War  of  1870,  speedily  followed,  and 
Europe  in  time  of  peace  has  become  a  gigantic  camp,  sup- 
porting armies  which,  in  their  magnitude  and  their  perfection, 
are  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  world.  It  was  estimated 
in  1888  that  Germany,  Austria,  France,  Italy,  and  Kussia, 
could  probably  together  put  in  the  field  more  than  sixteen 
millions  of  soldiers  in  time  of  war,  and  that  their  united 
armies  in  time  of  peace  were  not  less  than  2,315,000  men.1 

Two  facts  connected  with  this  military  development  are 
especially  significant.  One  is,  that  the  trading  and  commer- 
cial spirit  has  now  become  one  of  the  chief  impulses  towards 
territorial  aggrandisement.  '  Trade,'  as  it  has  been  truly 
said,  '  follows  the  flag.'  With  the  present  system  of  enor- 
mous manufacturing  production  and  stringent  protective 
barriers,  it  has  become  absolutely  necessary  for  a  great 
manufacturing  State  to  secure  for  itself  a  sufficient  market 
by  incorporating  new  territories  in  its  dominions.  In  hardly 
any  period  of  her  history  has  England  annexed  so  much  terri- 
tory as  in  the  last  half-century,  and  although  many  of  these 
annexations  are  due  to  the  necessity  which  often  compels  a 
civilised  power  as  a  mere  measure  of  police  and  self-defence 
to  extend  its  frontier  into  the  uncivilised  world,  much  also 
must  be  attributed  to  commercial  enterprise. 

England  has  not  been  alone  in  this  respect.  Few  more 
curious  spectacles  have  been  exhibited  in  the  present  century 
than  that  of  the  chief  civilised  nations  of  Europe  dividing 
among  themselves  the  African  continent  without  even  a 
shadow  or  pretext  of  right.  Experience  has  already  shown 
how  easily  these  vague  and  ill-defined  boundaries  may  become 
a  new  cause  of  European  quarrels,  and  how  often,  in  remote 
African  jungles  or  forests,  negroes  armed  with  European  guns 
may  inflict  defeats  on  European  soldiers  which  will  become 
the  cause  of  costly  and  difficult  wars. 

1  llcvue  dc  Droit  International,  xi.  '.('J. 


256  DEMOCBACY  AND   LIBERTY 

Another  very  remarkable  fact  has  been  the  growing  feel- 
ing in  the  most  civilised  portions  of  Europe  in  favour  of 
universal  military  service.  Not  many  years  ago  it  would 
scarcely  have  found  a  conspicuous  defender,  except  perhaps 
Carlyle,  outside  purely  military  circles ;  but  no  competent 
judge  can  fail  to  observe  the  change  which  has  of  late  years 
taken  place.  The  system  has  now  struck  a  deep  root  in  the 
habits  of  continental  life,  and  in  the  eyes  of  a  considerable  and 
able  school  it  is  rather  a  positive  good  than  a  necessary  evil. 

Its  defenders  contend,  in  the  first  place,  that  these 
gigantic  armies  make  rather  for  peace  than  for  war.  The 
tremendous  force  of  the  weapon,  the  extreme  difficulty  of 
managing  it ;  the  uncertainty  that  more  than  ever  hangs 
over  the  issue  of  a  struggle  ;  the  complete  paralysis  of  all  in- 
dustrial life  that  must  now  accompany  a  great  war,  and  the 
utter  ruin  that  may  follow  defeat,  impose  a  severe  restraint 
on  the  most  ambitious  statesman  and  the  most  excited 
population  ;  while  vast  citizen  armies,  which  must  be  dragged 
from  domestic  life  and  peaceful  industry  to  the  battlefield, 
will  never  be  pervaded  with  the  desire  for  war  that  animates 
purely  professional  soldiers.  I  have  heard,  indeed,  one  of  the 
most  competent  judges  of  the  political  and  military  state  of 
Europe  predict  that  the  most  dangerous  period  to  European 
peace  will  be  that  which  follows  a  disarmament,  reducing 
the  armies  of  the  rival  Powers  to  moderate  and  manageable 
dimensions. 

But,  in  addition  to  this  consideration,  a  strong  conviction 
has  grown  up  of  the  moral  and  educational  value  of  military 
discipline.  It  is  urged  that,  in  an  age  when  many  things 
contribute  to  weaken  the  national  fibre  and  produce  in  large 
classes  a  languid,  epicurean,  semi-detached  cosmopolitanism, 
universal  service  tends  strongly  to  weld  nations  together,  to 
strengthen  the  patriotic  feeling,  to  form  a  high  standard  of 
civic  duty  and  of  self-sacrificing  courage,  to  inspire  the 
masses  of  the  population  with  the  kind  and  the  intensity  of 
enthusiasm  that  is  most  conducive  to  the  greatness  of  nations. 
It  carries  the  idea  and  sentiment  of  nationhood  to  multitudes 
whose  thoughts  would  otherwise  have  never  travelled  beyond 


THE   MILITARY    SYSTEM  257 

the  narrow  circle  of  daily  wants  or  of  village  interests.  The 
effect  of  universal  service  in  Italy  in  civilising  half-barbarous 
populations,  in  replacing  old  provincial  jealousies  and  pre- 
judices by  the  sentiment  of  a  common  nationality,  has 
been  abundantly  displayed.  In  some  cases  a  measure  of 
ordinary  education  is  now  combined  with  military  service, 
and  the  special  education  which  discipline  in  itself  produces 
is,  it  is  contended,  peculiarly  needed  in  our  day.  '  The  true 
beginning  of  wisdom,'  a  wise  old  Hebrew  writer  has  said, 
'  is  the  desire  of  discipline,'  l  and  it  is  probably  on  this  side 
that  modern  education  is  most  defective.  Military  service 
at  least  produces  habits  of  order,  cleanliness,  punctuality, 
obedience,  and  respect  for  authority,  and,  unlike  most  forms 
of  popular  education,  it  acts  powerfully  on  the  character  and 
on  the  will.  A  few  years  spent  in  this  school  and  amid  the 
associations  of  the  barrack  will  not  tend  to  make  men  saints, 
but  it  is  likely  to  do  much  to  strengthen  and  discipline  their 
characters,  and  to  fit  them  to  play  a  useful  and  honourable 
part  in  civil  life.  It  at  least  gives  them  the  tastes  and  habits 
of  civilised  men,  corrects  many  senseless  prejudices,  forms 
brave,  steady,  energetic,  and  patriotic  citizens.  It  mitigates 
the  problems  of  the  unemployed  and  of  pauperism,  and 
exercises  a  reforming  influence  on  the  idlest  and  most  dis- 
orderly elements  in  society.  Such  men  are  far  more  likely  to 
be  reclaimed  by  the  strong,  steady  pressure  of  military  dis- 
cipline than  by  any  teaching  of  the  Churches  or  the  schools. 
In  all  countries,  it  is  truly  said,  when  peace  has  con- 
tinued long,  and  when  wealth  and  prosperity  have  greatly 
increased,  insidious  vices  grow  up  which  do  much  to  corrode 
the  strength  of  nations.  Lax  principles,  low  ideals ;  luxurious, 
self-indulgent,  effeminate  habits  of  thought  and  life  prevail ; 
the  robuster  qualities  decline ;  the  power  of  self-sacrifice  is 
diminished,  and  life  in  all  its  forms  takes  a  less  serious  cast. 
The  catastrophe  of  a  great  war  is  often  Nature's  stern 
corrective  of  these  evils,  but  every  wise  statesman  will  look 
for  remedies  that  are  less  drastic  and  less  perilous.  Of 
these,  a  few  years  of  universal  military  discipline  is  one  of 

1  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  vi.  17. 
VOL.    I.  S 


258  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  most  powerful.  It  is  the  best  tonic  for  a  debilitated 
system. 

Some  admirers  have  gone  even  further.  There  is  a 
theory,  which,  I  believe,  took  its  rise  in  Germany,  but  which 
has  found  adherents  in  England,  that  the  gigantic  armies  of 
the  Continent  in  reality  cost  nothing,  for  the  productive 
powers  of  men  are  so  much  increased  by  a  few  years  of 
military  discipline  that  society  is  amply  compensated  for  the 
sacrifice  it  has  made.  Two  or  three  years  of  a  life  are  taken 
from  productive  employment  and  supported  from  national 
funds,  but  the  remainder  is  rendered  greatly  more  productive. 

I  have  endeavoured  to  state  the  case  of  the  supporters 
of  universal  service  in  its  strongest  form.  I  do  not  think 
that  it  can  be  doubted  that  it  contains  some  truth  ;  but,  like 
much  truth  that  has  been  long  neglected,  it  has  been  thrust 
into  an  exaggerated  and  misleading  prominence.  The 
question  is  one  of  extreme  importance  for  the  English- 
speaking  race,  for,  if  the  education  of  universal  military 
service  does  all  that  is  attributed  to  it,  the'  continental 
nations  which  have  generally  adopted  it  must  necessarily,  in 
the  long  run,  rise  to  a  higher  plane  than  the  English  race, 
who,  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean,  have  steadily  rejected  it. 
To  me,  at  least,  the  theory  of  the  inexpensiveness  of  the 
continental  military  system  seems  to  be  a  complete  paradox, 
in  the  face  of  the  overwhelming  and  ever-increasing  burden 
of  debt  and  taxation  distinctly  due  to  the  military  system, 
which  is  crushing  and  paralysing  the  industry  of  Europe  and 
threatening  great  nations  with  speedy  bankruptcy.  It  is  true 
that  military  discipline  often  forms  valuable  industrial  quali- 
ties ;  but  it  is  also  true  that  the  conscription  breaks  the  habits 
of  industrial  life  at  the  very  age  when  it  is  most  important 
that  they  should  be  formed,  and  that,  in  countless  cases,  the 
excitements  and  associations  of  military  life  utterly  unfit  men 
for  the  monotony  of  humble  labour,  pursued,  perhaps,  in 
somp  remote  hamlet,  and  amid  surroundings  of  abject  poverty. 

"With  the  present  gigantic  armies,  wars  have,  no  doubt, 
become  less  frequent,  though  they  have  become  incomparably 
more  terrible  ;  but  can  any  one  seriously  contend  that  the 


THE   MILITARY    SYSTEM  259 

unrestrained  and  reckless  military  competition  of  the  last 
few  years  has  given  Europe  any  real  security,  or  that  either 
the  animosities  or  the  aspirations  that  threaten  it  have  gone 
down  ?  Are  its  statesmen  confident  that  an  ambitious  mon- 
arch, or  a  propitious  moment,  or  an  alliance  or  an  invention 
that  materially  changes  the  balance  of  forces,  or  some  tran- 
sient outburst  of  national  irritation  injudiciously  treated,  might 
not  at  any  moment  set  it  once  more  in  a  blaze  ?  To  strew 
gunpowder  on  all  sides  may,  no  doubt,  produce  caution,  but 
it  is  not  the  best  way  of  preventing  an  explosion.  Never 
in  the  history  of  mankind  have  explosive  elements  of  such 
tremendous  potency  been  accumulated  in  Europe,  and,  with 
all  our  boasted  democracy,  the  issues  of  peace  or  war  have 
seldom  rested  so  largely  with  three  or  four  men.  In  the 
present  condition  of  the  world,  it  would  be  quite  possible  for 
the  folly  of  a  single  ruler  to  bring  down  calamities  upon 
Europe  that  might  transfer  the  sceptre  of  civilisation  to  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic* 

The  security  of  internal  peace  given  by  a  great  army,  and 
the  influence  of  military  discipline  in  forming  habits  of  life 
and  thought  that  are  opposed  to  anarchical  and  revolutionary 
tendencies,  have  been  much  dwelt  on.  But  if  the  military 
system  does  much  to  employ  and  reclaim  the  dangerous 
classes,  if  it  teaches  loyalty  and  obedience  and  respect,  it 
also  brings  with  it  burdens  which  are  steadily  fomenting 
discontent.  Certainly,  the  great  military  nations  of  the  world 
are  not  those  in  which  Anarchy,  Socialism,  and  Nihilism  are 
least  rife.  Of  all  the  burdens  that  a  modern  Government  can 
impose  on  its  subjects,  incomparably  the  heaviest  is  universal 
compulsory  military  service,  and,  to  a  large  minority  of  those 
who  undergo  it,  it  is  the  most  irritating  and  the  most  crushing 
servitude.  Nor  should  it  be  forgotten  that,  if  this  system  fur- 
nishes Governments  with  tremendous  engines  of  repression, 
it  is  also  preparing  the  time  when  every  revolutionary  move- 
ment will  be  made  by  men  who  have  the  knowledge  and  expe- 
rience of  military  life.  A  great  military  Power  continually 
augmenting  its  army  in  hopes  of  repressing  anarchy  presents 
a  spectacle  much  like  that  which  may  be  seen  at  a  Spanish 

s  2 


260  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

bullfight  when  the  banderilla  has  been  planted  by  a  skilful 
hand,  and  when  every  bound  by  which  the  infuriated  animal 
seeks  to  shake  off  the  barb  that  is  lacerating  its  flesh  only 
deepens  and  exasperates  the  wound. 

No  reasonable  man  will  deny  that  a  period  of  steady  dis- 
cipline is,  to  many  characters,  an  education  of  great  value — 
an  education  producing  results  that  are  not  likely  in  any 
other  way  to  be  equally  attained.  It  is  especially  useful  in 
communities  that  are  still  in  a  low  stage  of  civilisation,  and 
have  not  yet  attained  the  habits  of  order  and  respect  for 
authority,  and  in  communities  that  are  deeply  divided  by 
sectional  and  provincial  antipathies.  It  is,  I  think,  equally 
true  that  improvements  have  been  introduced  into  modern 
armies  which  have  greatly  raised  their  moral  tone.  But, 
when  all  this  is  admitted,  the  shadows  of  the  picture  remain 
very  marked.  Deferred  marriage,  the  loosening  of  domestic 
ties,  the  growth  of  ideals  in  which  bloodshed  and  violence 
play  a  great  part,  a  diminished  horror  of  war,  the  constant 
employment  of  the  best  human  ingenuity  in  devising  new 
and  more  deadly  instruments  of  destruction — all  these  things 
follow  in  the  train  of  the  great  armies.  It  is  impossible  to 
turn  Europe  into  a  camp  without  in  some  degree  reviving 
the  ideals  and  the  standards  of  a  military  age. 

Discipline  teaches  much,  but  it  also  represses  much,  and 
the  dead-level  and  passive  obedience  of  the  military  system 
are  not  the  best  school  of  independent  thought  and  individual 
energy.  To  the  finer  and  more  delicate  flowers  of  human 
culture  it  is  peculiarly  prejudicial.  Strongly  marked  indi- 
vidual types,  highly  strung,  sensitive,  nervous  organisations, 
are  the  soils  from  which  much  that  is  most  beautiful  in  our 
civilisation  has  sprung.  Beyond  all  other  things,  enforced 
military  service  tends  to  sterilise  them.  Among  such  men 
it  is  difficult  to  overestimate  either  the  waste  and  ruin  of 
high  talent,  or  the  amount  of  acute  and  useless  suffering  that 
it  produces.  To  democracies  these  things  are.  of  little  mo- 
ment, and  they  seem  lost  in  the  splendour  and  pageantry  of 
military  life.  But  the  statistics  that  are  occasionally  pub- 
lished, exhibiting  the  immensely  disproportionate  number  of 


THE   MILITAKY   SYSTEM  26 1 

suicides  in  some  of  the  chief  armies  of  the  Continent,  show 
clearly  the  suffering  that  is  festering  beneath. 

Taine  has  devoted  to  the  growth  of  the  military  sys- 
tem several  pages  of  admirable  power  and  truth,  and  he 
justly  describes  conscription  as  the  natural  companion  or 
brother  of  universal  suffrage — one  of  the  two  great  demo- 
cratic forces  which  seem  destined  for  some  time  to  rule  the 
world.1  The  levelling  and  intermingling  of  classes  it  pro- 
duces renders  it  congenial  to  a  democratic  age,  and  the  old 
system  of  obtaining  exemptions  and  substitutions  for  money 
has  been  generally  abolished.  In  the  majority  of  cases, 
those  who  desired  exemption  were  men  with  no  military 
aptitude,  so  the  army  probably  gained  by  the  substitution. 
It  was  a  free  contract,  in  which  the  poor  man  received  what 
the  rich  man  paid,  and  by  which  both  parties  were  bene- 
fited. It  gave,  however,  some  privilege  to  wealth,  and 
democracy,  true  to  its  genuine  instinct  of  preferring  equality 
to  liberty,  emphatically  condemned  it. 

There  is,  however,  another  aspect  of  the  question  which 
has  impressed  serious  observers  on  the  Continent.  In  spite 
of  the  affinity  I  have  mentioned,  it  would  be  hardly  possible 
to  conceive  a  greater  contrast  in  spirit  and  tendency  than 
exists  in  some  essential  respects  between  the  highly  demo- 
cratic representative  Governments  and  the  universal  military 
service,  which  are  simultaneously  flourishing  in  a  great  part 
of  Europe.  The  one  is  a  system  in  which  all  ideas  of  au- 
thority and  subordination  are  discarded,  in  which  the  skilful 
talker  or  demagogue  naturally  rules,  in  which  every  question 
is  decided  by  the  votes  of  a  majority,  in  which  liberty  is  per- 
petually pushed  to  the  borders  of  license.  The  other  is  a 
system  of  the  strictest  despotism  and  subordination,  of  passive 
obedience  without  discussion  or  remonstrance  ;  a  system  with 
ideals,  habits,  and  standards  of  judgment  utterly  unlike  those 
of  popular  politics  ;  a  system  which  is  rapidly  including, 
and  moulding,  and  representing  the  whole  adult  male  popu- 
lation. And  while  parliamentary  government  is  everywhere 
showing  signs  of  growing  inefficiency  and  discredit,  the  armies 
1  Origines  de  la  France  Contemporainc  :  Lc  Rigime  MocUrne,  i.  284-96. 


262  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

of  Europe  are  steadily  strengthening,  absorbing  more  and 
more  the  force  and  manhood  of  Christendom.  Some  ob- 
servers are  beginning  to  ask  themselves  whether  these  two 
things  are  likely  always  to  go  on  together,  and  always  to 
maintain  their  present  relation— whether  the  eagles  will 
always  be  governed  by  the  parrots. 

The  great  growth  of  militarism  in  the  latter  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century  has,  I  think,  contributed  largely,  though 
indirectly,  to  the  prevailing  tendency  to  aggrandise  the 
powers  of  government  and  to  seek  social  reforms  in  strong 
coercive  organisations  of  society.  It  is  also -the  chief  source 
of  the  immense  increase  of  taxation,  which  has  so  seriously 
aggravated  the  dangers  of  a  period  of  democratic  trans- 
formation. It  is  not,  indeed,  by  any  means  the  dnly  source. 
Something  is  due  to  the  higher  wages,  the  better  payment 
of  functionaries  and  workmen  of  every  order,  which  has 
followed  in  the  train  of  a  higher  standard  of  life  and  comfort. 
This  beneficent  movement  was  much  accentuated  in  a  period 
of  great  prosperity,  and  it  has  continued  with  little  abate- 
ment, though  economical  conditions  have  much  changed. 

A  much  more  considerable  cause,  however,  of  the  increase 
of  national  expenditure  is  to  be  found  in  the  many  new  duties 
that  are  thrown  upon  the  State.  The  most  important  of 
these  has  been  that  of  national  education.  Hardly  any 
change  in  our  generation  has  been  more  marked  than  that 
which  made  the  education  of  the  poor  one  of  the  main 
functions  of  the  Government.  In  1833,  a  parliamentary 
grant  of  20,000Z.  was,  for  the  first  time,  made  in  England  to 
assist  two  societies  engaged  in  popular  education.  In  1838, 
the  parliamentary  grant  was  raised  to  30,000Z.  a  year.  It 
soon  passed  these  limits ;  but  the  great  period  of  national 
expenditure  on  education  is  much  more  recent.  Before  the 
Act  of  1870  the  State,  in  encouraging  primary  education, 
confined  itself  to  grants  in  aid  of  local  and  voluntary  bodies. 
It  built  no  schools,  and  it  made  no  provision  for  education 
where  local  agencies  were  wanting.  The  Act  of  1870  pro- 
viding for  the  establishment  of  a  school  in  every  district 
where  the  supply   of   education  was  deficient,    the  Act  of 


NATIONAL   EDUCATION  263 

1876  making  it  penal  for  parents  to  neglect  the  education  of 
their  children,  and  the  Act  of  1891  granting  free  education, 
were  the  chief  causes  of  the  rapid  rise  in  this  branch 
of  expenditure.  In  1892  the  total  expenditure  of  school 
boards  in  England  and  Wales  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum 
of  7,134,386Z.  The  number  of  free  scholars  was  about 
3,800,000,  and  the  number  of  children  paying  fees  or  partial 
fees  Was  about  1,020,000.' 

England  has,  in  this  respect,  only  acted  on  the  same 
lines  as "  other  civilised  countries.  She  has  acted  on  the 
supposition  that,  in  the  competition  of  nations,  no  un- 
educated people  can  hold  its  own,  either  in  industrial  or 
political  competitions,  and  that  democratic  government  can 
only  be  tolerable  when  it  rests  on  the  broad  basis  of  an 
educated  people.  Probably  few  persons  will  now  altogether 
doubt  these  truths,  though  something  of  the  old  belief  in 
the  omnipotence  of  education  may  have  passed  away,  and 
though  some  qualifying  considerations  may  have  come  into 
sight.  The  old  Tory  doctrine,  that  national  education  may 
easily  be  carried  to  a  point  which  unfits  men  for  the  manual 
toil  in  which  the  great  majority  must  pass  their  lives,  was 
certainly  not  without  foundation.  Formerly  the  best  work- 
man was  usually  content  to  remain  in  his  class,  and  to  bring 
up  his  children  in  it.  He  took  a  pride  in  his  work,  and  by 
doing  so  he  greatly  raised  its  standard  and  character.  His 
first  desire  is  now,  much  more  frequently,  to  leave  it,  or  at 
least  to  educate  his  children  in  the  tastes  and  habits  of  a 
class  which  he  considers  a  little  higher  than  his  own.  That 
a  man  born  in  the  humbler  stages  of  society,  who  possesses 
the  power  of  playing  a  considerable  part  in  the  world,  should 
be  helped  to  do  so  is  very  desirable  ;  but  it  is  by  no  means 
desirable  that  the  flower  of  the  working  class,  or  their 
children,  should  learn  to  despise  manual  labour  and  the 
simple,  inexpensive  habits  of  their  parents,  in  order  to 
become  very  commonplace  doctors,  attorneys,  clerks,  or 
newspaper  writers.  This  is  what  is  continually  happening, 
and  while  it  deprives  the  working  classes  of  their  best 
1   See  the  statistics  in  Whitaker's  Almanack  for  1894,  pp.  001,  605. 


264  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

elements,  it  is  one  great  cause  of  the  exaggerated  com- 
petition which  now  falls  with  crushing  weight  on  the  lower 
levels  of  the  intellectual  professions. 

Education,  even  to  a  very  humble  degree,  does  much  to 
enlarge  interests  and  brighten  existence ;  but,  by  a  melan- 
choly compensation,  it  makes  men  far  more  impatient  of  the 
tedium,  the  monotony,  and  the  contrasts  of  life.  It  produces 
desires  which  it  cannot  always  sate,  and  it  affects  very  con- 
siderably the  disposition  and  relations  of  classes.  One 
common  result  is  the  strong  preference  for  town  to  country 
life.  A  marked  and  unhappy  characteristic  of  the  present 
age  in  England  is  the  constant  depletion  of  the  country 
districts  by  the  migration  of  multitudes  of  its  old  healthy 
population  to  the  debilitating,  and  often  depraving,  atmo- 
sphere of  the  great  towns.  The  chief  causes  of  this  change 
are,  no  doubt,  economical.  In  the  extreme  depression  of 
agriculture,  every  farmer  finds  it  absolutely  essential  to  keep 
his  wage  bill  at  the  lowest  point,  and  therefore  to  employ  as 
few  labourers  as  possible.  Machinery  takes  the  place  of 
hand  labour.  Arable  land,  which  supports  many,  becomes 
pasture  land,  which  supports  few.  But  every  one  who  has 
much  practical  acquaintance  with  country  life  will,  I  believe, 
agree  that  the  movement  has  been  greatly  intensified  by  the 
growing  desire  for  more  excitement  and  amusement  which, 
under  the  influence  of  popular  education,  has  spread  widely 
through  the  agricultural  labourers.  Hopes  and  ambitions 
that  are  too  often  bitterly  falsified  draw  them  in  multitudes 
to  the  great  towns. 

This  restlessness  and  discontent  produce  considerable  poli- 
tical effects.  Education  nearly  always  promotes  peaceful 
tastes  and  orderly  habits  in  the  community,  but  in  other 
respects  its  political  value  is  often  greatly  overrated.  The 
more  dangerous  forms  of  animosity  and  dissension  are 
usually  undiminished,  and  are  often  stimulated,  by  its  influ- 
ence. An  immense  proportion  of  those  who  have  learnt  to 
read,  never  read  anything  but  a  party  newspaper — very  pro- 
bably a  newspaper  specially  intended  to  inflame  or  to  mis- 
lead them — and  the  half-educated  mind  is  peculiarly  open  to 
political  Utopias  and  fanaticisms.     Very  few  such  men  can 


SHORTSIGHTED   POLITICS  265 

realise  distant  consequences,  or  even  consequences  which  are 
distant  but  one  remove  from  the  primary  or  direct  one. 
How  few  townsmen,  in  a  political  contest,  will  realise  that 
the  neglect  or  depression  of  agriculture  beats  down  town 
wages,  by  producing  an  immigration  of  agricultural  labourers ; 
or  that  a  great  strike  in  times  of  manufacturing  depression 
will  usually  drive  the  industry  on  which  they  depend  for 
their  food,  in  part  at  least,  out  of  the  country ;  or  that  a 
highly  graduated  system  of  taxation,  which  at  first  brings  in 
much  money  at  the  cost  of  the  few,  will  soon  lead  to  a 
migration  of  the  capital  which  is  essential  to  the  subsistence 
of  the  many.  Every  politician  knows  how  difficult  it  is  in 
times  of  peace  to  arouse  the  public  to  the  importance  of  the 
army  and  navy,  on  which  the  very  existence  of  the  Empire 
may  depend,  or  to  questions  affecting  national  credit,  or  to 
questions  affecting  those  distant  portions  of  the  Empire 
which  feed,  by  their  commerce,  our  home  industries.  Few 
men  clearly  realise  that  each  popular  exemption  from  taxa- 
tion, each  popular  subsidy  that  is  voted,  means  a  corre- 
sponding burden  imposed  on  some  portion  of  the  community  ; 
or  that  economies  which  leave  Civil  Servants  underpaid 
almost  always  lead  to  wastefulness,  inefficiency,  and  corrup- 
tion. Men  seldom  bestow  on  public  questions  the  same 
seriousness  of  attention  that  they  bestow  on  their  private 
concerns,  and  they  seldom  look  as  far  into  the  future. 
National  interests  continually  give  way  to  party  or  to  class 
interests.  The  ultimate  interests  even  of  a  class  are  subordi- 
nated to  the  immediate  benefit  of  a  section  of  it.  Proximate 
ends  overshadow  distant  consequences,  and  when  the  com- 
bative instinct,  with  all  its  passion  and  its  pride,  is  aroused, 
even  proximate  interests  are  often  forgotten.  In  few  fields 
have  there  been  more  fatal  miscalculations  than  in  the  com- 
petition and  struggle  of  industrial  life,  and  they  are  largely 
due  to  this  cause. 

All  classes  are  liable  to  mistakes  of  this  kind,  but  they 
are  especially  prevalent  among  the  half-educated,  who  have 
passed  out  of  the  empire  of  old  habits  and  restraints.  Such 
men  are  peculiarly  apt  to  fall  under  misleading  influences. 
They  are  usually  insensible  to  the  extreme  complexity  of 


266  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  social  fabric  and  the  close  interdependence  of  its  many- 
parts,  and  to  the  transcendent  importance  of  consequences 
that  are  often  obscure,  remote,  and  diffused  through  many 
different  channels.  The  complete  illiteracy  of  a  man  is,  no 
doubt,  a  strong  argument  against  entrusting  him  with  poli- 
tical power,  but  the  mere  knowledge  of  reading  and  writing 
is  no  real  guarantee,  or  even  presumption,  that  he  will  wisely 
exercise  it.  In  order  to  attain  this  wisdom  we  must  look  to 
other  methods — to  a  wide  diffusion  of  property,  to  a  system 
of  representation  that  gives  a  voice  to  many  different  interests 
and  types.  The  sedulous  maintenance  of  the  connection 
between  taxation  and  voting  is  perhaps  the  best  means  of 
obtaining  it. 

These   considerations    are   not   intended   to   show   that 
education  is  not  a  good  thing,  but  only  that  its  political 
advantages  have  not  always  proved  as  unmixed  and  as  great 
as  has  been  supposed.  In  the  age  in  which  we  live,  the  incapa- 
city and  impotence  that  result  from  complete  illiteracy  can 
hardly  be  exaggerated,  and  every  Government,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  should  make  it  its  duty  to  provide  that  all  its  subjects 
should  at  least  possess  the  rudiments  of  knowledge.     It  is 
also  a  matter  of  much  importance  to  the  community  that 
there  should  be  ladders  by  which  poor  men  of  real  ability 
can  climb  to  higher  positions  in  the  social  scale.     This  is 
an  object  for  which  private  endowments  have  largely  and 
wisely  provided,  and,  unless  the  flow  of  private  benevolence 
is  arrested  by  the  increasing  action  of  the  State,  endowments 
for  this  purpose  are  sure  to  multiply.    Another  order  of  con- 
siderations, however,  comes  into  play  when  great  revenues 
are  raised  by  compulsion  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a 
free  national  education    which  has  more  the  character  of 
secondary  than  primary  education.     The  childless  are  taxed 
for  the  education  of  children,  and  large  classes  of  parents  for 
the  support  of  schools  they  will  never  use.    Parental  respon- 
sibility,   as  well   as  parental  rights,  are  diminished,  and  a 
grinding  weight  of  taxation,  for  a  purpose  with  which  they 
have  little  or  no  real  sympathy,  falls  upon  some  of  the  most 
struggling  classes  in  the  community. 


SANITARY    REFORM  2^7 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  this  form  of  taxation  is 
likely  to  increase.  A  large  party  desire  to  provide  at  the 
expense  of  the  State,  not  only  free  education,  but  also  free 
school  books,  free  recreation  grounds,  and  at  least  one  meal 
during  school  hours.  Sectarian  jealousies  and  animosities, 
in  more  than  one  country,  add  largely  to  the  cost  of  educa- 
tion by  an  unnecessary  multiplication  of  schools,  or  by 
establishing  a  ruinous  competition  between  State  schools 
and  schools  established  by  voluntary  subscription  or  sup- 
ported by  religious  denominations.  At  the  same  time,  the 
standard  of  popular  and  free,  or,  in  other  words,  State-paid 
education,  seems  steadily  rising.  A  crowd  of  subjects  which 
lie  far  beyond  the  limits  of  primary  education  are  already 
taught,  either  gratuitously  or  below  cost  price.  In  most 
countries,  education  in  all  its  stages  seems  becoming  more 
and  more  a  State  function,  bearing  more  and  more  the  State 
stamp,  and  more  and  more  supported  from  public  funds. 

This  is  one  main  cause  of  the  increase  of  the  revenue 
drawn  by  the  Government  from  the  people.  There  are  others, 
on  which  we  may,  I  think,  look  with  more  unhesitating 
approval.  The  great  work  of  sanitary  reform  has  been 
perhaps  the  noblest  legislative  achievement  of  our  age,  and, 
if  measured  by  the  suffering  it  has  diminished,  has  probably 
done  far  more  for  the  real  happiness  of  mankind  than  all 
the  many  questions  that  make  and  unmake  ministries.  It 
received  its  first  great  impetus  in  the  present  century  from/ 
the  Public  Health  Act  of  1848,  and  in  our  own  generation 
it  has  been  greatly  and  variously  extended.  There  can  be 
no  nobler  or  wiser  end  for  a  statesman  to  follow  than  to 
endeavour  to  secure  for  the  poor,  as  far  as  is  possible,  the  same 
measure  of  life  and  health  as  for  the  rich.  Among  the  many 
addresses  that  were  presented  to  the  Queen  in  her  Jubilee 
year,  none  appeared  to  me  so  significant  as  that  which 
was  presented  by  the  sanitary  inspectors,  summing  up 
what  had  been  done  in  England  during  the  first  fifty 
years  of  the  reign.  They  observed  that  the  general  health 
of  Her  Majesty's  subjects  had  advanced  far  beyond  that  of 
any  great  State  of  Europe  or  of  the  United  States  ;  that  the 


268  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

mean  duration  of  life  of  all  the  Queen's  subjects  had  been 
augmented  by  three  and  a  half  years  ;  that  in  the  last  year's 
population  of  England  and  Wales  there  had  been  a  saving  of 
84,000  cases  of  death,  and  of  more  than  1,700,000  cases  of 
sickness,  over  the  average  rates  of  death  and  sickness  at  the 
beginning  of  the  reign  ;  that  the  death-rate  of  the  home 
army  had  been  reduced  by  more  than  half,  and  the  death- 
rate  of  the  Indian  army  by  more  than  four-fifths. 

All  this  cannot  be  done  without  the  constant  intervention 
of  Government.  On  the  subject  of  sanitary  reform  the  case 
of  the  extreme  individualist  will  always  break  down,  for 
disease  is  most  frequently  of  a  contagious  and  epidemical 
character,  and  the  conditions  from  which  it  springs  can  never 
be  dealt  with  except  by  general,  organised,  coercive  measures. 
The  real  justification  of  the  law  imposing  compulsory  vaccina- 
tion on  an  unwilling  subject  is,  not  that  it  may  save  his 
life,  but  that  it  may  prevent  him  from  being  a  centre  of 
contagion  to  his  neighbours.  In  all  legislation  about  drainage, 
pollution  of  rivers,  insanitary  dwellings,  the  prevention  of 
infection,  and  the  establishment  of  healthy  conditions  of 
labour,  spasmodic  and  individual  efforts,  unsupported  by  law, 
will  always  prove  insufficient.  As  population  increases,  and 
is  more  and  more  massed  in  large  towns  ;  as  the  competition 
for  working  men's  houses  within  a  limited  area  grows  more 
intense  ;  as  industry  takes  forms  which  bring  great  numbers 
of  working  men  and  women  under  the  same  roof,  and  as 
multiplying  schools  increase  the  danger  of  children's  epi- 
demics, the  need  for  coercive  measures  of  sanitary  regulation 
becomes  more  imperious. 

A  Government  can  have  no  higher  object  than  to  raise 
the  standard  of  national  health,  and  it  may  do  so  in  several 
different  ways.  It  may  do  much  to  encourage  those  most 
fruitful  and  beneficial  of  all  forms  of  research — research  into 
the  causes  of  disease  and  the  methods  of  curing  it.  It  may 
bring  within  the  reach  of  the  poorest  class  the  medical  know- 
ledge and  appliances  which,  in  a  ruder  state  of  society,  would 
be  a  monopoly  of  the  rich.  It  may  make  use  of  the  great 
technical  knowledge  at  its  command  to  establish  qualifications 


SANITARY   REFORM  269 

for  medical  practice  which  will  restrain  the  quack,  who  trades 
on  the  fears  and  weaknesses  of  the  ignorant  much  as  the 
professional  money-lender  does  on  their  improvidence  and 
inexperience.  It  may  also  greatly  raise  the  health  of  the 
community  by  measures  preventing  insanitary  conditions  of 
life,  noxious  adulterations,  or  the  spread  of  contagion. 

In  this,  no  doubt,  as  in  other  departments,  there  are 
qualifications  to  be  made,  dangers  and  exaggerations  to  be 
avoided.  Sanitary  reform  is  not  wholly  a  good  thing  when 
it  enables  the  diseased  and  feeble  members  of  the  community, 
who  in  another  stage  of  society  would  have  died  in  infancy, 
to  grow  up  and  become  parent  stocks,  transmitting  a 
weakened  type  or  the  taint  of  hereditary  disease.  The 
diminution  of  mortality  which  sanitary  science  effects  is 
mainly  in  infant  mortality,  and  infant  mortality  is  a  far  less 
evil  than  adult  mortality,  and  in  not  a  few  cases  it  is  a 
blessing  in  disguise.  It  is  true,  too,  that  mere  legislation  in 
this,  as  in  other  fields,  will  prove  abortive  if  it  is  not  supported 
by  an  intelligent  public  opinion.  As  one  of  the  wisest 
statesmen  of  our  age  has  truly  said,  '  Sanitary  instruction  is 
even  more  essential  than  sanitary  legislation,  for  if  in  these 
matters  the  public  knows  what  it  wants,  sooner  or  later  the 
legislation  will  follow  ;  but  the  best  laws,  in  a  country  like  this, 
are  waste  paper  if  they  are  not  appreciated  and  understood.'  ' 

It  is  possible  that  a  Government,  acting  at  the  dictation 
of  a  profession  which  is  strongly  wedded  to  professional 
traditions  and  etiquette,  and  which  at  the  same  time  deals 
with  a  subject  very  far  removed  from  scientific  certainty, 
may  throw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  new  treatments  and 
remedies  that  may  prove  of  great  benefit  to  mankind. 
It  is  also  possible,  and  indeed  probable,  that  it  may 
carry  the  system  of  regulation  to  an  exaggerated  extent. 
Some  portions  of  the  Factory  Acts  are  open  to  this  cri- 
ticism, though  it  will  usually  be  found  that  in  these  cases 
other  than  sanitary  considerations  have  entered  into  this 
legislation.  It  is,  -however,  a  universal  rule  that  when  a 
system  of  regulation  has  begun,  it  will  tend  to  increase,  and 

1  Speeches  and  Addresses  of  Lord  Derby,  i.  170. 


270  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

when  men  entrusted  with  sanitary  reforms  become  a  large 
profession,  they  will  naturally  aggrandise  their  power,  ex- 
aggerate their  importance,  and  sometimes  become  meddle- 
some and  inquisitorial.  M.  Leon  Say  has  lately  pointed  out 
the  dangers  of  this  scientific  protectionism,  which  is  leading 
sanitarians  to  attempt  to  watch  our  lives  in  the  minutest 
detail;  and  another  distinguished  French  authority  has  bluntly 
declared  that  a  new  '89  will  be  needed  against  the  tyranny  of 
hygiene,  in  order  to  regain  our  liberty  of  eating  and  drink- 
ing, and  to  limit  the  incessant  meddling  of  sanitarians  in 
our  private  lives.1  Legislators  constantly  overlook  the  broad 
distinction  between  lines  of  conduct  that  are  injurious,  but 
injurious  only  to  those  who  follow  them,  and  lines  of  conduct 
that  can  be  clearly  shown  to  produce  danger  or  evil  to  the 
community.  In  the  latter  case  Government  interference  is 
always  called  for.  In  the  former,  in  the  case  of  adults  there 
is  at  least  a  strong  presumption  against  it.  As  a  general  rule, 
an  adult  man  should  regulate  his  own  life,  and  decide  for 
himself  whether  he  will  run  exceptional  risks  with  a  view 
to  exceptional  rewards. 

But,  when  all  this  is  admitted,  there  is  hardly  any  other 
field  in  which  Governments  can  do,  or  have  done,  so  much  to 
alleviate  or  prevent  human  suffering.  Neither  Governments 
nor  their  advisers  are  infallible  ;  but  in  this  case  Governments 
act  with  the  best  lights  that  medical  science  can  give,  and 
they  act,  for  the  most  part,  with  perfect  good  faith,  and 
without  any  possibility  of  party  advantage.  The  prolonga- 
tion of  human  life  is  much.  The  diminution  or  alleviation 
of  disease  and  suffering  is  much  more.  Sanitary  reform 
cannot  be  effectually  carried  out  without  a  heavy  expenditure, 
which  is  borne  in  the  shape  of  taxes  by  the  community. 
But,  looking  at  this  expenditure  merely  from  an  economical 
point  of  view,  no  expenditure  that  a  Government  can  make 
is  more  highly  remunerative.  Sir  James  Paget  has  esti- 
mated the  loss  of  labour  by  the  wage  classes  from  excessive 
preventible  sickness  at  twenty  millions  of  weeks  per  annum. 
Sir  Edwin  Chadwick  writes  :  '  The  burden  of  lost  labour,  of 
excessive  mortality,  and  of  excessive  funerals  from  preventible 

1   See  an  essay  by  M.  Raffalovich  in  Mackay's  Plea  for  Liberty,  p.  217. 


REFORM   OF   CRIMINALS  27 1 

causes  were  largely  underestimated  in  1842  at  two  millions 
per  annum  in  the  Metropolis.  In  England  and  "Wales,  those 
same  local  burdens  of  lost  labour  and  excessive  sickness  may 
now  be  estimated  at  upwards  of  twenty-eight  million  pounds 
per  annum.' 1 

A  very  similar  line  of  reasoning  may  be  employed  to 
justify  the  great  increase  of  national  expenditure  in  England, 
and  in  most  other  countries,  in  the  field  of  prisons  and 
reformatories.  The  enormous  improvements  that  have 
taken  place  in  the  prison  system  during  the  present  century 
have  added  largely  to  the  expenditure  of  nations,  but  they 
have  put  an  end  to  an  amount  of  needless  suffering,  de- 
moralisation, and  waste  of  human  character  and  faculty 
that  it  is  difficult  to  overestimate.  '  The  best  husbandry,' 
as  Grattan  once  said,  '  is  the  husbandry  of  the  human 
creature.'  To  distinguish  between  crime  that  springs  from 
strongly  marked  criminal  tendency  and  crime  that  is  due  to 
mere  unfavourable  circumstances,  or  transient  passion,  or 
weakness  of  will ;  to  distinguish  among  genuine  criminal 
tendencies  between  those  which  are  still  incipient  and 
curable,  and  those  which  have  acquired  the  force  of  an  in- 
veterate disease,  is  the  basis  of  all  sound  criminal  reform. 
It  cannot  be  carried  out  without  much  careful  classification 
and  many  lines  of  separate  treatment.  The  agencies  for 
reclaiming  and  employing  juvenile  criminals ;  the  separate 
treatment  of  intoxication ;  the  broad  distinction  drawn 
between  a  first  offender  and  an  habitual  criminal ;  the  prison 
regulations  that  check  the  contagion  of  vice,  have  all  had  a 
good  effect  in  reducing  the  amount  of  crime.  Most  of  these 
things  cost  much,  but  they  produce  a  speedy  and  ample 
return.  Money  is  seldom  better  or  more  economically  spent 
than  in  diminishing  the  sum  of  human  crime  and  raising 
the  standard  of  human  character.  In  this  case,  as  in  the 
case  of  sanitary  reform,  it  may  be  truly  said  that  legislators 
act  under  the  best  available  advice  and  with  perfect  single- 
ness of  purpose.  On  such  questions  very  few  votes  can  be 
either  gained  or  lost. 

'  Chadwick  on  Unity,  p.  G3. 


272  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

The  same  thing  cannot  be  said  of  all  extensions  of 
Government  functions.  No  feature  is  more  characteristic 
of  modern  democracy  than  the  tendency  to  regulate  and 
organise  by  law  countless  industries  which  were  once  left  to 
private  initiative  and  arrangement ;  to  apply  the  machinery 
of  the  State  to  countless  functions  which  were  once  dis- 
charged by  independent  bodies,  or  private  benevolence,  or  co- 
operation. A  vast  increase  in  many  forms  of  expenditure 
and  in  many  different  kinds  of  officials  is  the  inevitable 
consequence,  imposing  great  additional  burdens  on  the  tax- 
payer, and  each  new  departure  in  the  field  of  expenditure 
is  usually  made  a  precedent  and  a  pretext  for  many  others. 
I  cannot  go  as  far  as  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  and  some  other 
writers  of  his  school  in  denouncing  this  as  wholly  evil,  though 
I  agree  with  them  that  the  dangerous  exaggerations  and 
tendencies  are  chiefly  on  this  side.  Much  of  this  increased 
elaboration  of  government  seems  to  me  inevitable.  As  civi- 
lisation becomes  more  highly  organised  and  complex,  as 
machinery  increases  and  population  and  industries  agglo- 
merate, new  wants,  interests,  and  dangers  arise,  which 
imperiously  require  increased  regulation.  It  is  impossible  to 
leave  a  great  metropolis  or  a  vast,  fluctuating,  industrial 
population  with  as  little  regulation  as  a  country  village  or  a 
pastoral  people.  Compare  the  old  system  of  locomotion  by 
a  few  coaches  or  wagons  with  our  present  railway  system ; 
or  our  old  domestic  industries  with  our  present  gigantic 
factories,  stores,  and  joint-stock  companies ;  or  the  old 
system  of  simple  isolated  cesspools  with  the  highly  complex 
drainage  on  which  the  safety  of  our  great  towns  depends,  and 
it  will  be  evident  how  much  new  restraining  and  regulating 
legislation  is  required.  The  growth  of  philanthropy,  and  the 
increasing  light  which  the  press  throws  on  all  the  sides  of  a 
nation's  life,  make  public  opinion  keenly  sensible  of  much 
preventible  misery  it  would  have  either  never  known  or  never 
cared  for,  and  science  discloses  dangers,  evils,  and  possibilities 
of  cure  of  which  our  ancestors  never  dreamed. 

All  these  things  produce  a  necessity  for  much  additional 
regulation,  and  a  strong  pressure  of  public  opinion  for  much 


SUCCESSFUL    STATE   ACTION  273 

more.  If  Governments,  as  distinguished  from  private 
companies,  have  some  disadvantages,  they  have  also  some 
important  advantages.  They  can  command  a  vast  amount 
of  technical  skill.  They  can  act  with  a  simultaneity  and 
authority  and  on  a  scale  which  no  private  organisation  can 
emulate,  and  in  England,  at  least  since  the  old  system  of 
patronage  has  been  replaced  by  the  present  system  of 
examination  and  constant  control,  the  State  can  usually 
count  upon  a  very  large  supply  of  pure  and  disinterested 
administrators.  On  some  subjects  Governments  are  much 
less  likely  than  private  companies  to  be  deflected  by  corrupt 
or  sinister  motives,  and  an  English  Government  has  the 
great  advantage  of  possessing  the  best  credit  in  the  world, 
which  enables  it  to  give  many  enterprises  an  unrivalled 
stability  and  security,  and  to  conduct  them  with  unusual 
economy.  The  application  of  British  credit  to  schemes  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor,  or  the  solution  of  great  social  ques- 
tions, has  of  late  years  been  largely  extended,  and  seems 
likely  steadily  to  advance.  There  is  also  some  difference 
between  the  action  of  a  representative  Government,  includ- 
ing, utilising,  and  commanding  the  best  talent  in  all  classes, 
and  a  despotic  or  highly  aristocratic  Government,  which  is 
in  the  hands  of  a  few  men,  and  acts  under  very  little  re- 
straint and  control,  like  a  kind  of  Providence  apart  from  the 
nation. 

In  many  departments  the  conveniences  of  State  action  are 
very  great.  Few  persons,  for  example,  would  withdraw  the 
post-office  from  Government  hands.  Private  enterprise 
might  perform  its  functions  with  equal  efficiency  in  the  chief 
centres  of  population,  but  Government  alone  could  carry  on 
the  enterprise  uniformly  and  steadily,  in  all  countries,  in  the 
districts  that  are  unremunerative  as  well  as  in  those  which 
are  profitable.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more 
flagrant  violation  of  the  English  fetish  of  Free  Trade  than 
the  regulation  of  cab  fares  by  authority  ;  but  the  convenience 
of  the  system  is  so  great  that  no  one  wishes  to  abolish  it. 
Banking  for  the  benefit  of  private  persons  is  certainly  not  a 
natural  business  of  Government,  but  Government  machinery 
vol.  1.  T 


274  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  Government  credit  have  built  up  a  system  of  savings 
banks  and  post-office  banks  which  has  been  a  vast  blessing 
to  the  poor,  encouraging  among  them,  to  an  eminent  degree, 
providence  and  thrift,  and  at  the  same  time  giving  them  a 
direct  interest  in  the  stability  of  the  Empire  and  the  security 
of  property.  Few  things  have  conferred  more  benefits  on 
agriculture  than  the  large  sums  which  have  been  advanced 
to  landlords  for  drainage,  at  a  rate  of  interest  sufficient  to 
secure  the  State  from  loss,  but  lower  than  they  could  have 
obtained  in  a  private  market.  Of  all  the  schemes  that 
have  been  formed  for  improving  the  condition  of  Ireland, 
the  most  promising  is  that  for  the  creation  of  a  peasant 
proprietary  by  means  of  loans  issued  at  a  rate  of  interest 
which  the  State,  and  the  State  alone,  could  command,  and 
repaid  by  instalments  in  a  defined  number  of  years.  This  is 
a  type  of  legislation  which  is  almost  certain  in  the  future 
to  be  widely  and  variously  applied. 

All  these  excursions  outside  the  natural  sphere  of 
Government  influence  should  be  carefully  and  jealously 
watched ;  but  there  are  some  distinctions  which  should  not 
be  forgotten.  Government  enterprises  which  are  remunera- 
tive stand  on  a  different  basis  from  those  which  must  be 
permanently  subsidised  by  taxation,  or,  in  other  words,  by 
forced  payments,  in  most  cases  largely  drawn  from  those 
who  are  least  benefited  by  them.  If  it  be  shown  that  the 
State  management  of  some  great  enterprise  can  be  conducted 
with  efficiency,  and  at  the  same  time  made  to  pay  its 
expenses ;  if  it  can  be  shown  that,  by  the  excellent  credit  of 
the  State,  a  State  loan  or  a  State  guarantee  can  effect  some 
useful  change  or  call  into  being  some  useful  enterprise 
without  loss  to  the  State  or  to  its  credit,  a  large  portion  of 
the  objections  to  this  intervention  will  have  been  removed. 
It  is  also  very  important  to  consider  whether  the  proposed 
intervention  of  the  Government  lies  apart  from  the  sphere 
of  politics,  or  whether  it  may  become  a  source  or  engine  of 
corruption.  It  may  do  so  by  placing  a  large  addition  of 
patronage  in  the  hands  of  the  executive,  and  it  may  do  so  still 
more  dangerously  by  creating  new  and  corrupt  reasons  for 


LIMITS   OF   STATE   ACTION  275 

giving  or  soliciting  votes.  Few  persons,  for  example,  can 
doubt  that,  if  the  Socialist  policy  of  placing  the  great  industries 
of  the  country  in  the  hands  of  municipalities  were  carried 
out,  numbers  of  votes  would  be  systematically  given  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  obtaining  advantages  for  the  workmen  con- 
nected with  these  industries,  at  the  cost  of  the  community 
at  large. 

Another  element  to  be  considered  is,  whether  the  things 
the  State  is  asked  to  assist  are  of  a  kind  that  can  flourish 
without  its  aid.  There  are  forms  of  science  and  literature 
and  research  which  can  by  no  possibility  be  remunerative, 
or  at  least  remunerative  in  any  proportion  to  the  labour  they 
entail  or  the  ability  they  require.  A  nation  which  does  not 
produce  and  does  not  care  for  these  things  can  have  only 
an  inferior  and  imperfect  civilisation.  A  Government  grant 
which  would  appear  almost  infinitesimal  in  the  columns  of 
a  modern  Budget  will  do  much  to  support  and  encourage 
them.  Expenditure  in  works  of  art  and  art  schools,  in 
public  buildings,  in  picture  galleries,  in  museums,  adds  largely 
to  the  glory  and  dignity  of  a  nation  and  to  the  education 
of  its  people.  It  is  continually  increasing  that  common 
property  which  belongs  alike  to  all  classes  ;  and  it  is  a  truly 
democratic  thing,  for  it  makes  it  possible  for  the  poor  man  to 
know  and  appreciate  works  of  art  which,  without  State  inter- 
vention, he  would  have  never  seen,  and  which  would  have 
been  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  rich  and  cultivated  few. 
The  total  indifference  of  English  Governments  during  a 
long  period  to  artistic  development  is  one  of  the  great  causes 
that  art  has  flowered  so  tardily  in  England. 

In  many  countries  in  Europe  dramatic  art  is  assisted  by 
subsidies  to  the  opera  and  the  classical  theatre.  Such 
subsidies  stand  on  a  different  ground  from  those  which  I  have 
just  noticed,  for  they  minister  directly  to  the  pleasures  of 
the  rich ;  though  a  brilliant  theatre,  by  drawing  many 
strangers  to  the  metropolis,  probably  ultimately  benefits  the 
poor.  It  is  not  likely  that  English  democratic  opinion 
would  tolerate  an  expenditure  of  this  kind ;  and  it  may  be 
observed    that    the    connection  between    Governments   and 

T  2 


276  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

amusement  is  much  closer  in  most  continental  countries 
than  in  England.  In  these  countries  a  large  portion  of  the 
money  raised  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  and  the  suffering  is 
levied  upon  public  amusements.1 

The  objections  to  the  vast  extension  of  State  regulations 
and  of    State  subsidies  are  very   many.     There   is,  in  the 
first  place,  what  may  be  called  the  argument  of  momentum, 
which  Herbert   Spencer  has  elaborated   with  consummate 
skill  and  force.2      It ,  is  absolutely  certain  that,   when  this 
system  is  largely  adopted,  it  will  not  remain  within   the 
limits  which  those  who  adopted  it  intended.     It  will  ad- 
vance with   an   accelerated  rapidity  ;  every  concession  be- 
comes a  precedent  or  basis  for  another  step,  till  the  habit 
is  fully  formed  of  looking  on  all  occasions  for  State  assist- 
ance or  restriction,  and  till  a  weight  of  taxation  and  debt 
has*  been   accumulated  from  which  the  first  advocates  of 
the  movement  would  have  shrunk  with  horror.     There  is 
the  weakening  of  private  enterprise  and  philanthropy  ;    a 
lowered  sense  of  individual  responsibility  ;  diminished  love 
of  freedom  ;  the  creation  of  an  increasing  army  of  officials, 
regulating  in  all  its   departments   the   affairs   of   life ;    the 
formation  of  a  state  of  society  in   which  vast   multitudes 
depend  for  their  subsistence  on  the  bounty  of  the  State.     All 
this  cannot  take  place  without  impairing  the  springs  of  self- 
reliance,  independence,    and   resolution,    without   gradually 
enfeebling  both  the  judgment  and  the  character.     It   pro- 
duces also  a  weight  of  taxation  which,  as  the  past  experience 
of  the  world  abundantly  shows,  may  easily  reach  a  point 
that   means   national   ruin.     An   undue   proportion  of   the 
means  of  the  individual  is  forcibly  taken  from  him  by  the 
State,  and  much  of  it  is  taken  from  the  most  industrious 
and  saving,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  been  idle  or 
improvident.    Capital  and  industry  leave  a  country  where  they 
are  extravagantly  burdened  and  have  ceased  to  be  profitable, 
and  even  the  land  itself  has  often  been  thrown  out  of  culti- 
vation on  account  of  the  weight  of  an  excessive  taxation. 

1  See  Le  droit  despauvres  sur  les  spectacles  en  Europe,  par  Cros-Mayrevielle 
(1889).  -  The  Man  versus  the  State. 


ABUSES   OF   STATE  ACTION  277 

The  tendency  to  constantly  increasing  expenses  in  local 
taxation  is  in  some  degree  curtailed  by  enactments  of  the 
Imperial  Parliament  limiting  in  various  ways  the  powers 
which  it  concedes  to  local  bodies  of  raising  taxes  or  incurring 
debts.  That  the  restrictions  are  very  unduly  lax,  few  good 
judges  will  question  ;  yet  it  is  the  constant  effort  of  local 
bodies,  which  are  under  democratic  influence,  to  extend 
their  powers.  Parliament  itself  is  unlimited,  and  Parlia- 
ment, on  financial  questions,  means  simply  the  House  of 
Commons.  The  constituencies  are  the  only  check,  but  a 
vast  proportion  of  the  expenditure  of  the  State  is  intended 
for  the  express  purpose  of  bribing  them.  Democracy  as  it 
appeared  in  the  days  of  Joseph  Hume  was  pre-eminently  a 
penurious  thing,  jealously  scrutinising  every  item  of  public 
expenditure,  denouncing  as  an  intolerable  scandal  the  extra- 
vagance of  aristocratic  government,  and  viewing  with  ex- 
treme disfavour  every  enlargement  of  the  powers  of  the 
State.  It  has  now  become,  in  nearly  all  countries,  a  govern- 
ment of  lavish  expenditure,  of  rapidly  accumulating  debt, 
of  constantly  extending  State  action. 

It  is,  I  believe,  quite  true  that  the  functions  of  Govern- 
ment must  inevitably  increase  with  a  more  complicated 
civilisation.  But,  in  estimating  their  enormous  and  por- 
tentously rapid  aggrandisement  within  the  last  few  years, 
there  is  one  grave  question  which  should  always  be  asked. 
Is. that  aggrandisement  due  to  a  reasoned  conviction  that 
Government  can  wisely  benefit,  directly,  different  classes  by 
its  legislation  ?  or  is  it  due  to  a  very  different  cause — to  the 
conviction  that,  by  promising  legislation  in  favour  of  different 
classes,  the  votes  of  those  classes  may  most  easily  be 
won? 

A  large  portion  of  the  increased  expenditure  is  also  due, 
not  to  subsidies,  but  to  the  increased  elaboration  of  adminis- 
trative machinery  required  by  the  system  of  constant  inspec- 
tion and  almost  universal  regulation.  Nothing  is  more  cha- 
racteristic of  the  new  democracy  than  the  alacrity  with  which 
it  tolerates,  welcomes,  and  demands  coercive  Government 
interference  in  all  its  concerns.     In  the  words  of  Mr.  Goschen, 


278  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

'  the  extension  of  State  action  to  new  and  vast  fields  of 
business,  such  as  telegraphy,  insurance,  annuities,  postal 
orders,  and  parcel  post,  is  not  the  most  striking  feature. 
What  is  of  far  deeper  import  is  its  growing  interference 
with  the  relations  between  classes,  its  increased  control  over 
vast  categories  of  transactions  between  individuals.  .  .  . 
The  parent  in  dealing  with  his  child,  the  employer  in  dealing 
with  his  workmen,  the  shipbuilder  in  the  construction  of 
his  ships,  the  shipowner  in  the  treatment  of  his  sailors,  the 
houseowner  in  the  management  of  his  house  property,  the 
landowner  in  his  contracts  with  his  tenants,  have  been 
notified  by  public  opinion  or  by  actual  law  that  the  time 
has  gone  by  when  the  cry  of  laissez-nous  /aire  would  be 
answered  in  the  affirmative.  The  State  has  determined 
what  is  right  and  wrong,  what  is  expedient  and  inexpedient, 
and  has  appointed  its  agents  to  enforce  its  conclusions. 
Some  of  the  highest  obligations  of  humanity,  some  of  the 
smallest  businesses  of  everyday  life,  some  of  the  most  com- 
plicated transactions  of  our  industrial  and  agricultural  organi- 
sations, have  been  taken  in  hand  by  the  State.  Individual 
responsibility  has  been  lessened,  national  responsibility  has 
been  heightened.' ' 

Nor  can  the  change  of  tendency  in  this  respect  be  mea- 
sured merely  by  actual  legislation.  It  is  to  be  seen  still 
more  clearly  in  the  countless  demands  for  legislative  restric- 
tion that  are  multiplying  on  all  sides  ;  in  the  Bills  which, 
though  not  yet  carried  into  law,  have  received  a  large 
amount  of  parliamentary  support ;  in  the  resolutions  of 
trade-union  congresses,  or  county  councils,  or  philanthropic 
meetings  or  associations ;  in  the  questions  asked  and  the 
pledges  exacted  at  every  election ;  in  the  great  mass  of 
socialistic  or  semi-socialistic  literature  that  is  circulating 
through  the  country.  Few  things  would  have  more  asto- 
nished the  old  Radicals  of  the  Manchester  school  than  to  be 
told  that  a  strong  leaning  towards  legislative  compulsion 
was  soon  to  become  one  of  the  marked  characteristics  of  an 

1  Laissez  faire  ;  or,  Government  Interference,  by  the  Eight  Hon.  G.  Goschen. 
Address  delivered  at  Edinburgh,  1883,  p.  4. 


GRADUATED   TAXATION  279 

'  Advanced  Liberal,'  and  '  all  contracts  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding ' — a  favourite  clause  in  democratic  legislation. 
Accompanying  this  movement,  and  naturally  growing- 
out  of  the  great  change  in  the  disposition  of  power,  is  the 
marked  tendency  to  throw  taxation  to  a  greater  extent  on 
one  class  of  the  community,  in  the  shape  of  graduated  taxa- 
tion. In  certain  forms  and  to  a  certain  measure  this  has 
always  existed  in  England.  The  shameful  exemption  from 
taxation  enjoyed  by  both  nobles  and  clergy  in  nearly  all 
continental  countries  up  to  the  eve  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion was  unknown  in  England,  and  it  had  always  been  an 
English  custom  to  impose  special  taxes  on  the  luxuries  of 
the  rich.  Tocqueville,  in  a  remarkable  passage,  which  has 
been  often  quoted,  observed  that  '  for  centuries  the  only 
inequalities  of  taxation  in  England  were  those  which  had 
been  successively  introduced  in  favour  of  the  necessitous 
classes.  ...  In  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  the  poor 
who  enjoyed  exemption  from  taxation  in  England,  in  France 
it  was  the  rich.  In  the  one  case,  the  aristocracy  had  taken 
upon  its  own  shoulders  the  heaviest  public  charges  in  order 
to  be  allowed  to  govern.  In  the  other  case,  it  retained 
to  the  end  an  immunity  from  taxation  in  order  to  console 
itself  for  the  loss  of  government.'  l  Arthur  Young,  in  a  little 
speech  which  he  made  to  a  French  audience  at  the  beginning 
of  the  Revolution,  described  vividly  the  difference  subsisting 
in  this  respect  between  the  two  countries.  '  We  have  many 
taxes,'  he  said,  '  in  England  which  you  know  nothing  of  in 
France,  but  the  tiers  etat — the  poor — do  not  pay  them.  They 
are  laid  on  the  rich.  Every  window  in  a  man's  house  pays, 
but  if  he  has  no  more  than  six  windows  he  pays  nothing. 
A  seigneur  with  a  great  estate  pays  the  vingtiemes  and 
tallies,  but  the  little  proprietor  of  a  garden  pays  nothing. 
The  rich  pay  for  their  horses,  their  carriages,  their  servants, 
and  even  for  liberty  to  kill  their  own  partridges ;  but  the 
poor  farmer  pays  nothing  of  this  ;  and,  what  is  more,  we  have 
in  England  a  tax  paid  by  the  rich  for  the  relief  of  the  poor.'  - 

1  UAncien  RAgime,  pp.  11G-47. 
-  Pinkerton's  Voyages,  iv.  200. 


280  DEMOCEACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Both  the  window  tax  and  the  house  tax  of  the  eighteenth 
century  were  graduated  taxes,  rising  in  an  increased  propor- 
tion according  to  the  value  of  the  dwelling.  A  similarly 
progressive  scale  of  taxation  was  introduced  by  Pitt  for 
carriages,  pleasure-horses,  and  male  servants,  the  duty  on 
each  of  these  rising  rapidly  according  to  the  numbers  in  each 
establishment. 

The  doctrine  that  revenue  should  be  raised  chiefly  from 
luxuries  or  superfluities  has  been  very  largely  recognised  in 
English  taxation,  and  since  the  great  fiscal  reforms  insti- 
tuted by  Sir  Eobert  Peel  it  has  been  carried  out  to  an  almost 
complete  extent.-  A  working  man  who  is  a  teetotaller  and 
who  does  not  smoke  is  now  almost  absolutely  untaxed, 
except  in  the  form  of  a  very  low  duty  on  tea  and  on  coffee. 
In  the  opinion  of  many  good  judges,  this  movement  of  taxa- 
tion, though  essentially  beneficent,  has  been  carried  in 
England  to  an  exaggerated  point.  It  is  not  right,  they  say, 
that  any  class  should  be  entirely  exempt  from  all  share  in 
the  imperial  burden,  especially  when  that  class  is  entrusted 
with  political  power,  and  has  a  considerable  voice  in  impos- 
ing and  adjusting  the  expenditure  of  the  nation.  Taxes 
on  articles  of  universal  consumption  are  by  far  the  most  pro- 
ductive. They  ought  always  to  be  kept  low,  for  when  they 
are  heavy  they  produce  not  only  hardships,  but  injustice,  as 
the  poor  would  then  pay  an  unduly  large  proportion  of  the 
national  revenue;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  their  complete 
repeal  is  a  matter  of  very  doubtful  expediency. 

In  England,  however,  the  policy  of  absolutely  abolishing 
the  taxes  on  the  chief  objects  of  a  poor  man's  necessary  con- 
sumption has  been  steadily  carried  out  by  both  parties  in 
the  State.  Tory  Governments  abolished  the  salt  duty  in 
1825  and  (after  many  reductions)  the  sugar  duty  in  1874  ; 
while  Liberal  Governments  abolished  the  coal  duty  and  the 
tax  on  candles  in  1831,  the  last  vestige  of  the  corn  duty  in 
1869,  the  taxes  on  soap  and  on  licenses  for  making  it  in 
1853  and  1870.  Both  parties  have  also  concurred  in  freeing 
nearly  every  article  of  a  working  man's  attire  by  removing 


EXEMPTIONS   FROM   TAXATION  28 1 

the  duties  on  wool,  calico,  and  leather.1  It  may  be  ques- 
tioned whether  this  policy  has  been  carried  to  its  present 
extreme  because  legislators  believed  it  to  be  wise,  or  because 
they  believed  that  it  would  prove  popular  with  the  electors. 
Such  measures  furnish  exactly  the  kind  of  topic  that  is  most 
useful  on  the  platform. 

There  is  another  principle  of  taxation  which  has  been 
advocated  by  Bentham  and  Mill,  and  which,  before  their  time, 
was  propounded  by  Montesquieu.  It  is  that  a  minimum 
income  which  is  sufficient  to  secure  to  a  labouring  family  of 
moderate  size  the  bare  necessaries,  though  not  the  luxuries* 
of  life,  should  remain  exempt  from  all  taxation.  Strictly 
speaking,  this  principle  is,  no  doubt,  inconsistent  with  the 
imposition  of  taxation  on  any  article  of  first  necessity ;  but 
it  has  been  largely  adopted  in  England  in  the  exemption 
of  the  poorest  class  of  houses  from  taxation,  and  in  the 
partial  or  complete  exemption  of  small  incomes  from  the 
income  tax.  Successive  Acts  of  Parliament  have  wholly  freed 
incomes  under  100Z.,  under  1501.,  and  under  160Z.  a  year  from 
the  tax,  and  have  granted  abatements  in  the  case  of  incomes 
under  2001.,  under  4:001.,  and,  finally,  under  500Z.  a  year.  The 
large  majority  of  the  electors  who  return  the  members  oi 
the  House  of  Commons  now  pay  nothing  to  the  income  tax. 

By  all  these  measures  a  system  of  graduated  taxation  has 
steadily  grown  up.  A  few  lines  from  a  speech  made  by 
Lord  Derby  in  1885  give  a  clear  picture  of  what  in  his  day 
had  been  done.  '  Take  the  income  tax.  We  exempt  alto- 
gether incomes  up  to  a  certain  point,  and  we  exempt  them 
partially  up  to  a  higher  point.  Take  the  house  tax.  What 
have  you  got  there  ?  Total  exemption  of  all  that  class  of 
houses  in  which  working  men  usually  live.  Take  the  death 
duties.  They  absolutely  spare  property  below  a  certain 
limited  amount.  Take  the  carriage  tax.  The  class  of  con- 
veyances used  by  poor  persons,  or  used  otherwise  than  for  pur- 
poses of  pleasure,  are  made  specially  free  of  charge.  Take 
the  railway-passenger  tax.  It  falls  on  first  and  second  class 
passengers,  and  leaves  the  third  class  untouched.  .  .  .  In  our 

1  Dowell's  History  of  Taxation. 


282    .  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

poor  law,  now  300  years  old,  we  have  adopted  a  system  so 
socialistic  in  principle  that  no  continental  Government  would 
venture  even  to  look  at  it.' r 

Articles  of  luxury  or  ostentation  used  exclusively  by  the 
rich  are,  in  many  instances,  specially  taxed.  Such,  for 
example,  are  the  taxes  on  armorial  bearings,  on  the  more 
expensive  qualities  of  wine,  on  menservants,  and  on  sport- 
ing. In  some  cases  taxes  of  this  kind  have  been  abolished, 
because  the  expense  of  collecting  them,  or  the  expense  of  dis- 
tinguishing between  the  better  and  the  cheaper  descriptions 
of  a  single  article,  made  them  nearly  wholly  unproductive. 
But,  on  the  whole,  the  strong  leaning  of  our  present  system 
in  favour  of  the  poor  cannot  reasonably  be  questioned  ;  and  it 
becomes  still  more  apparent  when  we  consider  not  merely  the 
sources,  but  the  application,  of  the  taxes.  The  protection  of 
life,  industry,  and  even  property,  is  quite  as  important  to  the 
poor  man  as  to  the  rich,  and  the  most  costly  functions  which 
Governments  have  of  late  years  assumed  are  mainly  for  his 
benefit.  Primary  education,  the  improvement  of  working  men's 
dwellings,  factory  inspection,  savings  banks,  and  other  means 
of  encouraging  thrift,  are  essentially  poor  men's  questions. 

Adam  Smith,  in  a  well-known  passage,  has  laid  down  the 
principle  on  which,  in  strict  equity,  taxation  should  be  levied. 
'  The  subjects  of  every  State  ought  to  contribute  to  the 
support  of  the  Government  as  nearly  as  possible  in  proportion 
to  their  respective  abilities  ;  that  is,  in  proportion  to  the 
revenue  which  they  respectively  enjoy  under  the  protection 
of  the  State.  The  expense  of  government  to  the  individuals 
of  a  great  nation  is  like  the  expense  of  management  to  the 
joint  tenants  of  a  great  estate,  who  are  all  obliged  to  con- 
tribute in  proportion  to  their  respective  interests  in  the 
estate.' 2 

According  to  this  principle,  the  man  with  1,000Z.  a  year 
should  pay  ten  times  the  taxes  of  a  man  with  100Z.  a  year, 
and  the  man  with  10,000Z.  a  year  ten  times  the  taxes  of  a 
man  with  1,CC0Z.  a  year.  In  the  words  of  Thiers,  '  every  kind 

1  TJie  Times,  November  2,  1885. 

-  Wealth  of  Nations,  Book  v.  chapter  ii. 


PRINCIPLE   OF  JUST   TAXATION  283 

of  revenue,  without  exception,  ought  to  contribute  to  the 
needs  of  the  State,  for  all  depend  upon  it  for  their  existence. 
Every  exemption  from  taxation  is  an  injustice.  .  .  .  The 
true  principle,  which  was  established  in  1789,  is  that  every 
man,  without  exception,  in  proportion  to  what  he  gains  or 
what  he  possesses,  should  contribute.  To  exempt  labour 
in  order  to  strike  property,  or  to  tax  property  in  exorbitant 
proportions,  would  only  be  to  add  a  new  iniquity  as  great 
as  that  which  was  abolished  in  1789.  .  .  .  Society  is  a  com- 
pany of  mutual  insurance,  in  which  each  man  should  pay  the 
risk  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  property  insured.  If  he 
has  insured  a  house  of  the  value  of  100,000  francs  (the  rate 
being  1  per  cent.),  he  owes  1,000  francs  to  the  company. 
If  the  insured  house  is  worth  a  million,  he  owes  10,000 
francs.  .  .  .  Society  is  a  company,  in  which  each  man  has 
more  or  less  shares,  and  it  is  just  that  each  should  pay  in 
proportion  to  their  number,  whether  they  be  ten,  or  100, 
or  1,000,  but  always  according  to  the  same  rate  imposed 
on  all.  There  should  be  one  rule  for  all,  neither  more  nor 
less.  To  abandon  this  would  be  as  if  a  merchant  were  to 
say  to  his  customers,  "  You  are  richer  than  your  neighbour, 
and  must  therefore  pay  more  for  the  same  goods."  It  would 
only  lead  to  endless  confusion,  and  open  out  boundless, 
incalculable,  possibilities  of  arbitrary  imposition.'  1 

The  great  majority  of  serious  economists  have,  I  believe, 
agreed  that,  as  a  matter  of  strict  right,  this  doctrine  is  the 
true  one.  Adam  Smith,  however,  clearly  saw  that  human 
affairs  cannot,  or  will  not,  be  governed  by  the  strict  lines  of 
economic  science,  and  he  fully  recognised  that  it  may  be 
expedient  that  taxes  should  be  so  regulated  that  the  rich 
should  pay  in  proportion  something  more  than  the  poor. 
In  England,  the  system  of  graduated  taxation  which  I  have 
described  has  passed  fully  into  the  national  habits,  and  is 
accepted  by  all  parties.  The  taxation  of  luxuries,  as  distin- 
guished from  necessaries,  has  been  productive  of  much  good, 
and  is  much  less  liable  than  other  forms  of  graduated  taxa- 
tion to  abuse.     The  exemption  of  small  incomes  from    all 

1  La  Propritte,  livre  iv.  chaps,  ii.,  iii. 


284  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

direct  taxation  undoubtedly  brings  with  it  grave  dangers, 
especially  when  those  who  are  exempted  form  the  bulk  of 
the  electorate,  and  are  thus  able  to  increase  this  taxation  to 
an  indefinite  extent,  without  any  manifest  sacrifice  to  them- 
selves. At  the  same  time,  few  persons  will  object  to  these 
exemptions,  provided  they  are  kept  within  reasonable  limits, 
are  intended  solely  as  measures  of  relief,  and  do  not  lead 
to  lavish  expenditure.  It  does  not  necessarily  follow  that, 
because  a  class  are  a  minority  in  the  electorate,  they  are  in 
grave  danger  of  being  unduly  taxed.  As  long  as  they  still 
form  a  sufficiently  considerable  portion  to  turn  the  balance 
in  elections,  they  have  the  means  of  vindicating  their  rights. 
It  is  the  duty  of  the  Government  to  provide  that  the  taxes 
are  moderate  in  amount,  and  are  levied  for  the  bond  fide 
purpose  of  discharging  functions  which  are  necessary  or 
highly  useful  t.o  the  State.  There  is,  however,  another  con- 
ception of  taxation,  which  has  of  late  years  been  rapidly 
growing.  It  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  socialistic  weapon, 
as  an  ♦instrument  of  confiscation,  as  a  levelling  agent  for 
breaking  down  large  fortunes,  redistributing  wealth,  and 
creating  a  new  social  type. 

The  growing  popularity  of  graduated  taxation  in  the 
two  forms  of  an  exemption  of  the  smaller  incomes  from  all 
direct  taxation,  and  of  the  taxation  of  large  incomes  on  a 
different  scale  or  percentage  from  moderate  ones,  is  very 
evident,  and  it  is  accompanied  by  an  equally  strong  tendency 
towards  a  graduated  taxation  of  capital  and  successions. 
Precedents  may,  no  doubt,  be  found  in  earlier  times.  A 
graduated  income  tax  existed  in  ancient  Athens,  and  was 
warmly  praised  by  Montesquieu.  Graduated  taxation  was 
imposed  with  much  severity  and  elaborated  with  great 
ingenuity  in  Florence  in  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and  six- 
teenth centuries.  But  it  is  chiefly  of  late  years,  and 
since  democratic  influence  has  predominated,  that  the  ques- 
tion of  graduated  taxation  has  been  pushed  into  the  fore- 
front. It  exists,  though  only  to  a  very  moderate  degree,  in 
Prussia  and  most  of  the  German  States,  and  a  Prussian 
law  of  1883  considerably  enlarged  the  number  of   exemp- 


GRADUATED   TAXATION  285 

tions.1  It  prevails  in  slightly  different  forms  in  a  large 
number  of  the  Swiss  cantons,  and  especially  in  the  cantons 
of  Vaud,  Zurich,  Geneva,  Uri,  and  the  Grisons.  Thus,  in 
the  Canton  de  Vaud  real  property  is  divided  into  three 
classes— properties  of  a  value  not  exceeding  1,000Z.,  pro- 
perties that  are  valued  between  1,000Z.  and  4,0001.,  and 
properties  of  a  value  above  4,000Z.  The  first  class  are  taxed 
at  the  rate  of  11.,  the  second  at  the  rate  of  11.  10s.,  and  the 
third  at  the  rate  of  21.  per  1,000?.  Personal  property  is 
divided  into  seven  classes,  each  of  them  taxed  at  a  separate 
rate.  Fortunes  exceeding  in  capital  value  32,000Z.,  and  in- 
comes exceeding  1,600?.,  are  subject  to  the  highest  rate.  In 
Zurich  a  different  system  is  adopted.  Though  both  capital 
and  income  are  progressively  taxed,  the  rate  of  that  tax  is 
the  same  for  all,  but  the  amount  liable  to  taxation  becomes 
proportionately  larger  as  the  fortune  or  the  income  increases.^ 
Thus  five-tenths  of  the  first  800Z.  of  a  capital  fortune,  six- 
tenths  of  the  next  1,200Z.,  seven-tenths  of  the  next  2,000Z., 
eight-tenths  of  the  next  4,000Z.,  and  ten-tenths  of  anything 
above  it,  are  taxed.2 

In  the  Netherlands  the  capital  Value  of  every  fortune  has, 
by  a  recent  law,  to  be  annually  stated,  and  it  is  taxed  according 
to  that  value  on  a  graduated  scale.  -Ten  thousand  florins  are 
untaxed  ;  after  that  the  tax  on  capital  gradually  rises  from 
one  to  two  in  a  thousand.  There  is  also  a  progressive  tax  on 
revenue,  but  with  exemptions  intended  to  prevent  capital 
from  being  twice  taxed.  In  New  Zealand  and  the  Australian 
colonies  there  is  much  graduated  taxation,  chiefly  directed 
against  the  growth  of  large  landed  properties.  In  New 
Zealand  the  ordinary  land  tax  is  thrown  upon  12,000  out  of 
90,000  owners  of  land.  There  is  an  additional  and  graduated 
land  tax  on  properties  which,  after  deducting  the  value  of 
improvements,  are  worth  5,000Z.  and  upwards.  It  rises  from 
£d.  to  2d.  in  the  pound,  and  there  is  also  a  special  and  gradu- 
ated tax  on  absentees.     The  income  tax  is  fid.  in  the  pound 

1  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Traite   des  Finances,  i.  139-74  ;  Say,  Solutions  D&mo- 
cratiques  dc  la  Question  des  Impots,  ii.  184-224. 

2  See  a  Foreign  Office  Report  on  Graduated  Taxation  in  Switzerland  (1892). 


286  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

on  the  first  taxable  1,000£.,  and  Is.  in  the  pound  on  higher 
rates.1  In  Victoria  there  is  a  graduated  succession  duty, 
varying  from  1  to  10  per  cent.2  In  France  the  question  of 
graduated,  or,  as  it  is  called,  progressive,  taxation  has  of  late 
been  much  discussed ;  but,  with  the  exception  of  a  graduated 
house  tax,3  attempts  in  this  direction  have,  until  quite  re- 
cently, been  defeated.  In  the  United  States,  as  I  have 
noticed  in  a  former  chapter,  proposals  for  graduated  taxation 
have  received  a  serious  check  in  the  decision  of  the  Supreme 
Court  in  1894,  which  appears  to  establish  that,  in  the  im- 
position of  direct  Federal  taxation,  the  Congress  must  only 
recognise  State  divisions  and  the  number  of  citizens.  During 
the  war  of  secession,  however,  a  graduated  income  tax  for  a 
short  time  existed.  The  first  war  income  tax,  which  was 
established  in  1861,  taxed  all  incomes  above  800  dollars  at 
the  same  rate  ;  but  the  second  income  tax,  which  was  enacted 
in  July  1862,  established  a  system  of  graduation,  which  was, 
however,  nearly  all  repealed  in  1865.  The  English  Budget 
of  1894  went  far  in  the  direction  of  graduated  taxation,  both 
by  the  additional  exemptions  granted  in  the  income  tax  and 
by  the  new  system  of  graduation. 

Recent  discussions  have  made  the  arguments  which 
have  been  adduced  by  economists  against  graduated  taxation 
very  familiar.  It  is  obvious  that  a  graduated  tax  is  a  direct 
penalty  imposed  on  saving  and  industry,  a  direct  premium 
offered  to  idleness  and  extravagance.  It  discourages  the 
very  habits  and  qualities  which  it  is  most  in  the  interest 
of  the  State  to  foster,  and  it  is  certain  to  operate  forcibly 
where  fortunes  approach  the  limits  at  which  a  higher  scale 
of  taxation  begins.  It  is  a  strong  inducement  at  that  period, 
either  to  cease  to  work  or  to  cease  to  save.  It  is  at  the 
same  time  perfectly  arbitrary.  When  the  principle  of  tax- 
ing all  fortunes  on  the  same  rate  of  computation  is  aban- 
doned, no  definite  rule  or  principle  remains.  At  what  point 
the  higher  scale  is  to  begin,  or  to  what  degree  it  is  to  be 
raised,  depends  wholly  on  the  policy  of  Governments  and 

1  New  Zealand  Official  Yearbook,  1894,  pp.  245-47. 

2  Dilke's  Problems  of  Greater  Britain,  ii.  277.  3  Ibid.  pp.  278-79. 


GRADUATED   TAXATION  287 

the  balance  of  parties.  The  ascending  scale  may  at  first  be 
very  moderate,  but  it  may  at  any  time,  when  fresh  taxes  are 
required,  be  made  more  severe,  till  it  reaches  or  approaches 
the  point  of  confiscation.  No  fixed  line  or  amount  of 
graduation  can  be  maintained  upon  principle,  or  with  any 
chance  of  finality.  The  whole  matter  will  depend  upon  the 
interests  and  wishes  of  the  electors ;  upon  party  politicians 
seeking  for  a  cry  and  competing  for  the  votes  of  very  poor 
and  very  ignorant  men.  Under  such  a  system  all  large 
properties  may  easily  be  made  unsafe,  and  an  insecurity  may 
arise  which  will  be  fatal  to  all  great  financial  undertakings. 
The  most  serious  restraint  on  parliamentary  extravagance 
will,  at  the  same  time,  be  taken  away,  and  majorities  will  be 
invested  with  the  easiest  and  most  powerful  instrument  of 
oppression.  Highly  graduated  taxation  realises  most  com- 
pletely the  supreme  danger  of  democracy,  creating  a  state  of 
things  in  which  one  class  imposes  on  another  burdens 
which  it  is  not  asked  to  share,  and  impels  the  State  into  vast 
schemes  of  extravagance,  under  the  belief  that  the  whole 
cost  will  be  thrown  upon  others. 

The  belief  is,  no  doubt,  very  fallacious,  but  it  is  very 
natural,  and  it  lends  itself  most  easily  to  the  claptrap  of 
dishonest  politicians.  Such  men  will  have  no  difficulty  in 
drawing  impressive  contrasts  between  the  luxury  of  the  rich 
and  the  necessities  of  the  poor,  and  in  persuading  ignorant 
men  that  there  can  be  no  harm  in  throwing  great  burdens 
of  exceptional  taxation  on  a  few  men,  who  will  still  remain 
immeasurably  richer  than  themselves.  Yet  no  truth  of 
political  economy  is  more  certain  than  that  a  heavy  taxation 
of  capital,  which  starves  industry  and  employment,  will  fall 
most  severely  on  the  poor.  Graduated  taxation,  if  it  is 
excessive  or  frequently  raised,  is  inevitably  largely  drawn 
from  capital.  It  discourages  its  accumulation.  It  produces 
an  insecurity  which  is  fatal  to  its  stability,  and  it  is  certain 
to  drive  great  masses  of  it  to  other  lands. 

The  amount  to  be  derived  from  this  species  of  taxation  is 
also  much  exaggerated.  The  fortunes  of  a  few  millionaires 
make  a  great  show  in  the  world,  but  they  form  in  reality  a 


288  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

very  insignificant  sum,  compared  with  the  aggregate  of 
moderate  fortunes  and  small  savings.  Unless  the  system  of 
graduation  be  extended,  as  in  Switzerland,  to  very  moderate 
fortunes,  it  will  produce  little,  and  even  then  the  exemptions 
that  accompany  it  will  go  far  to  balance  it.  It  is  certain, 
too,  that  it  will  be  largely  evaded.  There  is,  it  is  true,  a 
great  distinction  to  be  drawn  in  this  respect  between  real 
and  personal  property.  Land  is  of  such  a  nature  that  it 
cannot  escape  the  burden  which  is  imposed  on  it,  but  there 
are  many  ways  in  which  personal  property  can  escape. 
Confidential  arrangements  between  members  of  a  family  or 
partners  in  a  business,  foreign  investments  payable  to 
foreign  bankers,  an  increasing  portion  of  wealth  sunk  in  life 
annuities,-  insurances  made  in  companies'  that  are  not 
subject  to  British  taxation,  securities  payable  to  bearer, 
which  it  will  be  impossible  to  trace,  will  all  multiply,  and 
the  frauds  that  are  so  much  complained  of  in  income-tax 
returns  will  certainly  increase.  No  graver  error  can  be 
made  by  a  financier  than  to  institute  a  system  which  is  so 
burdensome  and  so  unjust  that  men  will  be  disposed  to 
employ  all  their  ingenuity  to  evade  it.  With  the  vast  and 
various  field  of  international  investment  that  is  now  open 
to  them  they  are  sure,  in  innumerable  instances,  to  succeed, 
and  no  declaration,  no  oath,  no  penalty  will  effectually 
prevent  it.  Taxation  is  ultimately  the  payment  which  is 
made  by  the  subject  for  the  security  and  other  advantages 
which  he  derives  from  the  State.  If  the  taxation  of  one 
class  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  cost  of  the  protection 
they  enjoy ;  if  its  members  are  convinced  that  it  is  not  an 
equitable  payment,  but  an  exceptional  and  confiscatory 
burden  imposed  upon  them  by  an  act  of  power  because  they 
are  politically  weak,  very  many  of  them  will  have  no  more 
scruple  in  defrauding  the  Government  than  they  would  have 
in  deceiving  a  highwayman  or  a  burglar. 

It  would  be  pressing  these  arguments  too  far  to  main- 
tain that  a  graduated  scale  of  taxation  is  always  and  neces- 
sarily an  evil.  In  this,  as  in  most  political  questions,  much 
will  depend  upon  circumstances  and  degrees.     It  is,  however, 


GRADUATED   TAXATION  289 

sufficiently  clear  that  any  financier  who  enters  on  this  field 
is  entering  on  a  path  surrounded  with  grave  and  various 
dangers.  Graduated  taxation  is  certain  to  be  contagious, 
and  it  is  certain  not  to  rest  within  the  limits  that  its 
originators  desired.  No  one  who  clearly  reads  the  signs  of 
the  times  as  they  are  shown  in  so  many  lands  can  doubt 
that  this  system  of  taxation  is  likely  to  increase.  It  would 
be  hardly  possible  that  it  should  be  otherwise  when  political 
power  is  placed  mainly  in  the  hands  of  the  working  classes  ; 
when  vast  masses  of  landed  property  are  accumulated  in  a 
few  hands ;  when  professional  politicians  are  continually 
making  changes  in  the  incidence  of  taxation  a  prominent 
part  of  their  electioneering  programmes ;  when  almost 
every  year  enlarges  the  functions,  and  therefore  the  ex- 
penditure, of  the  State ;  when  nearly  all  the  prevalent 
Utopias  take  a  socialistic  form,  and  point  to  an  equalisation 
of  conditions  by  means  of  taxation.  Under  such  conditions 
the  temptation  to  enter  upon  this  path  becomes  almost 
invincible. 

It  is  a  question  of  great  importance  to  consider  to  what 
result  it  is  likely  to  lead.  To  suppose  that  any  system  of 
taxation  can  possibly  produce  a  real  equality  of  fortunes,  or 
prevent  the  accumulation  of  great  wealth,  seems  to  me  wholly 
chimerical ;  though  it  is  quite  possible  that  legislators  in 
aiming  at  these  objects  may  ruin  national  credit,  and  bring 
about  a  period  of  rapid  commercial  decadence.  Highly 
graduated  taxation,  however,  is  likely  to  have  great  political 
.and  social  effects  in  transforming  the  character  pf  wealth.  It 
will  probably  exercise  a  special  influence  on  landed  property, 
breaking  up  or  greatly  diminishing  those  vast  estates  which 
are  so  distinctive  a  feature  of  English  life.  The  tendencies 
which  are  in  operation  acting  in  this  direction  are  very  power- 
ful. Land,  as  it  is  at  present  held  by  the  great  proprietors, 
is  usually  one  of  the  least  profitable  forms  of  property.  The 
political  influence  attached  to  it  has  greatly  diminished.  The 
magisterial  and  other  administrative  functions,  that  once 
gave  the  great  landlord  an  almost  commanding  influence 
in  his  county,  are  being  steadily  taken  away,  and  county 

vol.  1.  u 


290  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

government  in  all  its  forms  is  passing  into  other  hands.  If 
government  is  effectually  divorced  from  property,  and  if  a 
system  of  graduated  taxation  intended  to  equalise  fortunes 
becomes  popular,  great  masses  of  immovable  land  must 
become  one  of  the  most  undesirable  forms  of  property.  No 
other  excites  so  much  cupidity,  or  is  so  much  exposed  to 
predatory  legislation.  Under  all  these  circumstances,  we 
may  expect  to  see  among  the  great  landowners  a  growing 
desire  to  diminish  gradually  their  stake  in  the  land,  thus 
reversing  the  tendency  to  agglomeration  which  for  many 
generations  has  been  dominant. 

The  change,  in  my  opinion,  will  not  be  wholly  evil.  It  is 
not  a  natural  thing  that  four  or  five  country  places  should  be 
held  by  one  man  ;  that  whole  counties  should  be  included  in 
one  gigantic  property  ;  that  square  miles  of  territory  should 
be  enclosed  in  a  single  park.  The  scale  of  luxury  and  expen- 
diture in  English  country  life  is  too  high.  The  machinery 
of  life  is  too  cumbersome.  Its  pleasures  are  costly  out  of  all 
proportion  to  the  enjoyment  they  give.  Nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  it  desirable  that  great  landed  properties  should  be 
held  together  when  the  fixed  and  necessary  charges  are  so 
great  that  they  become  overwhelming  whenever  agricultural 
depression,  or  any  other  form  of  adversity,  arrives,  while  the 
girls  and  younger  children  of  the  family  are  left  to  a  poverty 
which  seems  all  the  more  acute  from  the  luxurious  surround- 
ings in  which  they  have  been  brought  up.  If  the  result 
of  graduated  taxation  should  be  to  produce  a  more  equal 
division  of  property  between  the  members  of  a  family  ;  if  rich 
men,  instead  of  making  an  allowance  to  their  sons,  should 
seek  to  avoid  death  duties  by  capitalising  and  at  once  hand- 
ing over  the  amount ;  if  the  preservation  of  game  should 
be  on  a  less  extravagant  scale  ;  if  estates  should  become 
smaller  and  less  encumbered,  and  the  habits  of  great  country 
houses  somewhat  less  luxurious  than  at  present,  these  things 
would  not  injure  the  country. 

Other  consequences,  however,  of  a  far  less  desirable  cha- 
racter are  certain  to  ensue,  and  they  are  consequences  that 
will  fall  more  heavily  upon  the  poor  than  upon  the  rich. 


ENGLISH   COUNTKY   LIFE  29 1 

Only  a  very  small  fraction  of  the  expenditure  of  a  great  land- 
owner can  be  said  to  contribute  in  any  real  degree  to  his  own 
enjoyment.  The  vast  cost  of  keeping  up  a  great  place,  and 
the  scale  of  luxurious  hospitality  which  the  conventionalities 
of  society  impose,  count  for  much.  Parks  maintained  at 
great  expense,  and  habitually  thrown  open  to  public  enjoy- 
ment ;  the  village  school,  or  church,  or  institute  established 
and  endowed ;  all  local  charities,  all  county  enterprises 
largely  assisted  ;  costly  improvements,  which  no  poor  land- 
lord could  afford  ;  much  work  given  for  the  express  purpose 
of  securing  steady  employment  to  the  poor — these  things 
form  the  largest  items  in  the  budget  of  many  of  the  great 
landowners.  Nor  should  we  omit  to  mention  remissions  of 
rent  in  times  of  depression  which  no  poor  man  could  afford 
to  make,  and  very  low  rents  kept  unchanged  during  long 
periods  of  increasing  prosperity. 

In  every  considerable  class  there  will  be  the  good  and  the 
bad,  the  generous  and  the  grasping ;  but,  on  the  wrhole,  no 
candid  man  will  deny  the  extremely  liberal  spirit  in  which 
the  large  landed  properties  in  England  have  been  adminis- 
tered. Whatever  ultimate  benefits  may  be  obtained  by  their 
dissolution,  it  is  certain  that  the  first  effect  will  be  to  extin- 
guish great  centres  of  beneficence  and  civilisation,  to  diminish 
employment,  to  increase  the  severity  of  contracts,  and  in 
many  other  ways  to  curtail  the  pleasures  and  augment  the 
hardships  o£  the  deserving  poor.  It  is  often  said  that  wealthy 
Americans,  not  having  the  ambition  of  founding  families, 
give  more  than  wealthy  Englishmen  for  public  purposes  ;  but 
I  believe  that  an  examination  of  the  unselfish  expenditure  of 
the  larger  English  landlords  on  objects  connected  with  their 
estates  would  show  that  they  in  this  respect  fall  little,  if  at 
all,  below  the  Transatlantic  example.  It  is  probably  only  in 
England  that  we  frequently  see  the  curious  spectacle  of  men 
with  incomes  of  several  thousands  a  year  overwhelmed  by 
lifelong  pecuniary  troubles,  not  because  of  any  improvi- 
dence, or  luxurious  habits  or  tastes,  but  simply  because  their 
incomes  are  insufficient  to  bear  the  necessary  expenses  of 
their  great  position. 

u  2 


292  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

It  seems  likely,  under  the  influences  I  have  described,  that 
a  great  change,  both  for  good  and  evil,  will  take  place.  Land 
will  probably,  in  future,  be  more  divided,  will  change  hands 
more  frequently,  will  be  treated  in  a  more  purely  commercial 
spirit  than  in  the  past.  Country  places  taken  for  mere 
pleasure,  and  unconnected  with  any  surrounding  property  or 
any  landlord  duties,  will  be  more  frequent.  It  is  not  probable 
that  yeomen  farmers  will  multiply  as  long  as  it  is  economically 
more  advantageous  for  a  farmer  to  rent  than  to  purchase  his 
farm  ;  but  land  will  be  bought  and  sold  more  frequently,  in 
moderate  quantities,  as  a  speculation,  let  at  its  extreme  value, 
and  divested  of  all  the  feudal  ideas  that  are  still  connected 
with  it.  The  old  historic  houses  will,  no  doubt,  remain,  but 
they  will  remain,  like  the  French  castles  along  the  Loire, 
memories  of  a  state  of  society  that  has  passed  away.  Many 
will  be  in  the  hands  of  rich  merchants  or  brewers,  and  perhaps 
American  millionaires.  They  will  often  be  shut  up,  as  a 
measure  of  economy,  for  long  periods.  They  will  no  longer 
be  the  centres  of  great  landed  properties,  or  represent  a  great 
county  influence  or  a  long  train  of  useful  duties.  Parks 
will  be  divided.  Picture-galleries  will  be  broken  up.  Many 
noble  works  of  art  will  cross  the  Atlantic.  The  old  type  of 
English  country  life  will  be  changed,  and  much  of  its  ancient 
beauty  will  have  passed  away. 

Assuming,  as  is  most  probable,  that  these  changes  are 
effected  gradually  and  without  violent  convulsion,  they  by 
ho  means  imply  the  impoverishment  of  those  who  are  now 
the  great  landed  proprietors.  No  one  can  doubt  that,  at  the 
present  day,  the  members  of  this  class  would  be  better  off  if 
they  had  less  land  and  more  money ;  if  their  properties  were 
in  such  forms  that  they  had  more  power  of  modifying  their 
expenditure  according  to'  their  means.  They  will  have  to 
pass  through  a  trying  period  of  transition,  but,  as  they  are 
remarkably  free  from  the  prejudices  and  narrow  conven- 
tionalities that  incapacitate  some  continental  aristocracies  in 
the  battle  of  life,  they  will  probably  soon  adapt  themselves  to 
their  new  circumstances.  With  ordinary  good  fortune,  with 
skilful  management,  with  the  rich  marriages  they  can  always 


DIVIDED   WEALTH 


293 


command,  with  the  excellent  legal  advice  that  is  always  at 
their  disposal,  they  will  probably  succeed  in  many  instances 
in  keeping  together  enormous  fortunes,  and  the  time  is  far 
distant  when  a  really  able  man,  bearing  an  historic  name, 
does  not  find  that  name  an  assistance  to  him  in  his  career. 
But  the  class  will  have  lost  their  territorial  influence.  Public 
life,  dominated,  or  at  least  largely  influenced,  by  professional 
politicians  of  the  American  type,  will  become  more  distasteful 
•to  them.  They  will  find  themselves  with  few  landlord  or 
county  duties,  and  with  much  less  necessary  hospitality  to 
perform,  and  they  will  probably  content  themselves  with 
smaller  country  establishments,  and  spend  much  more  of 
their  time  in  brighter  lands  beyond  the  sea. 

The  effects  of  highly  graduated  taxation  on  personal 
property  will  also  be  considerable,  but  probably  not  so  great 
as  on  real  property.  It  will  strengthen  the  disposition  of  a 
rich  man  to  divide  as  much  as  possible  his  investments,  as 
all  great  masses  of  homogeneous  immovable  property  will 
become  specially  insecure.  It  will,  in  this  respect,  in- 
crease a  movement  very  dangerous  to  English  commercial 
supremacy,  which  labour  troubles  and  organisations  have 
already  produced.  Most  good  observers  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  an  appreciable  influence  in  the  commercial 
depression  of  the  last  few  years  has  been  the  reluctance  of 
rich  men  to  embark  on  extensive  enterprises  at  a  time  when 
labour  troubles  are  so  acute,  so  menacing,  and  so  likely  to 
exercise  an  influence  on  legislation.  Far-seeing  men  hesitate 
to  commit  themselves  to  undertakings  which  can  only  slowly 
arrive  at  maturity  when  they  see  the  strong  bias  of  popular 
legislation  against  property,  and  the  readiness  with  which  a 
considerable  number  of  modern  statesmen  will  purchase  a 
majority  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  allying  themselves 
with  the  most  dishonest  groups,  and  countenancing  the  most 
subversive  theories.  Every  influence  which,  in  any  department 
of  industrial  life,  increases  risks  and  diminishes  profits  must 
necessarily  divert  capital,  and,  whatever  other  consequences 
may  flow  from  the  frequent  strikes  and  the  formidable  labour 
organisations  of  our  time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  have 


294  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

both  of  these  effects.  If,  in  addition  to  these  things,  it  be- 
comes the  policy  of  Governments  to  seek  to  defray  national 
expenditure  more  and  more  by  exceptional  taxation,  levied 
for  the  sake  of  popularity  exclusively  on  the  rich,  the  tendency 
to  abstain  from  large  manufacturing  and  commercial  enter- 
prises will  be  greatly  accentuated.  Such  enterprises  will  not 
cease,  but  they  will  become  less  numerous.  Many  manu- 
facturers will  probably  follow  the  example  which  some  have 
already  set,  and  throw  out  branch  establishments  in  foreign 
countries.  A  manufacturer  who  has  some  thousand  pounds 
on  hand,  instead  of  employing  them,  as  he  would  once  have 
done,  in  extending  his  business,  will  be  inclined  to  divide 
them  in  distant  investments.  It  need  scarcely  be  pointed  out 
how  dangerous  all  this  is  to  a  country  which  has  a  population 
much  beyond  its  natural  resources,  and  mainly  dependent 
upon  the  enormous,  unflagging,  ever-extending  manufacturing 
and  commercial  enterprise  which  vast  accumulations  and 
concentrations  of  capital  can  alone  produce. 

Another  consequence,  which  has  perhaps  not  been 
sufficiently  considered,  is  the  tendency  of  large  fortunes  to 
take  forms  which  bring  with  them  no  clear  and  definite  duties. 
The  English  landed  system,  which  seems  now  gradually 
passing  away,  had,  to  a  very  eminent  degree,  associated  great 
fortunes  and  high  social  position  with  an  active  life  spent  in 
the  performance  of  a  large  number  of  administrative  county 
and  landlord  duties.  It  in  this  way  provided,  perhaps  as 
far  as  any  social  institution  can  provide,  that  the  men  who 
most  powerfully  influence  others  by  their  example  should  on 
the  whole  lead  useful,  active,  and  patriotic  lives.  A  great 
manufacturer  and  the  head  of  a  great  commercial  undertaking 
is  still  more  eminently  a  man  whose  wealth  is  indissolubly 
connected  with  a  life  of  constant  and  useful  industry. 

Wealth,  however,  takes  many  other  forms  than  these, 
and,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  conspicuous  characteristic  of  our 
century  has  been  the  rapid  multiplication  of  the  idle  rich. 
In  the  conditions  of  modern  life  it  is  quite  possible  for  a 
man  to  have  a  colossal  fortune  in  forms  that  require  abso- 
lutely no   labour,   and   bring  with    them   no   necessary   or 


WEALTH   DISSOCIATED   FROM    LABOUR  295 

obvious  duties.  If  he  is  content  with  the  low  rate  of  inte- 
rest of  the  very  best  securities,  he  need  scarcely  give  a 
,  thought  to  the  sources  of  his  income.  If,  as  is  probable,  the 
whole  or  a  portion  of  his  fortune  is  invested  in  more  specu- 
lative securities,  it  will  require  from  him  some  time  and 
thought,  but  it  will  not  necessarily  bring  with  it  any  impera- 
tive duties  towards  his  fellow-creatures.  It  is  true  that  a 
rich  man  of  this  kind  is  in  reality  a  large  employer  of  labour. 
As  a  shareholder  he  is  part  proprietor  of  railroads,  steam- 
packets,  dockyards,  mines,  and  many  other  widely  different, 
and  probably  widely  scattered,  industrial  enterprises  and 
organisations.  But  he  has  no  real  voice  in  the  management 
of  these  concerns.  He  knows  nothing  of  the  conditions  of 
the  countless  labourers  who,  in  many  countries  and  many 
climes,  are  toiling  for  his  profit.  He  looks  on  his  invest- 
ments simply  as  sources  of  income.  His  sole  information 
concerning  them  is  probably  confined  to  a  few  statistics  about 
dividends,  traffic  returns,  encumbrances,  and  trade  prospects. 
We  are  all  familiar  with  great  numbers  of  more  or  less 
wealthy  men  whose  fortunes  are  of  this  description.  Under 
the  influences  that  I  have  described  such  fortunes  seem  to 
me  likely  to  multiply.  The  tendency  of  most  great  forms  of 
industry  is  evidently  towards  vast  joint-stock  companies 
with  many  shareholders.  With  improved  means  of  com- 
munication, the  securities  and  enterprises  of  many  countries 
are  easily  thrown  into  a  common  market,  and  national  and 
municipal  debts,  which  create  one  of  the  easiest  and  most 
important  forms  of  investment,  are  rapidly  increasing.  One 
of  the  first  signs  that  a  barbarous  nation  is  adopting  the 
manners  of  Occidental  civilisation  is  usually  the  creation  of 
a  national  debt,  and  democracies  are  certainly  showing 
themselves  in  no  degree  behind  the  most  extravagant  mon- 
archies in  the  rapidity  with  which  they  accumulate  national 
and  local  indebtedness.  Nor  should  we  forget  the  effect 
which  frequent  revolutions  and  violent  social  and  industrial 
perturbations  always  exercise  on  the  disposition  of  fortunes. 
These  things  seldom  fail  to  depress  credit,  to  increase  debt, 
to  destroy  industry,  to  impoverish   nations  ;    but  they  also 


296  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

furnish  many  opportunities  by  which  the  skilful,  the  for- 
tunate, and  the  unscrupulous  rise  rapidly  to  easily  acquired 
wealth.  If  we  take  them  in  conjunction  with  the  influences 
that  are  in  so  many  directions  dissociating  great  wealth 
from  landed  property  and  administrative  functions,  and  add- 
ing to  the  risks  of  extensive  industrial  undertakings,  it  will 
appear  probable  that  the  fortunes  of  the  future  will  be  much 
less  connected  with  active  duties  than  those  of  the  past. 

The  prospect  is  not  an  encouraging  one.  A  man  of  very 
superior  powers  will,  no  doubt,  always  find  his  work,  and  to 
such  a  man  a  fortune  of  this  description  will  be  an  incalcu- 
lable blessing.  It  will  save  him  from  years  of  drudgery  and 
anxiety,  and  it  will  give  him  at  the  outset  of  his  career  the 
priceless  advantage  of  independence.  To  men  of  lofty  moral 
qualities  it  will  at  least  be  no  injury.  Such  men  will  feel 
strongly  the  inalienable  responsibilities  of  wealth,  and  will 
find  in  the  fields  of  social  and  philanthropic  activity  ample 
scope  for  their  exertions.  Many,  too,  who  are  not  men  of- 
conspicuous  mental  or  moral  force  will  have  some  strong 
taste  for  art,  or  literature,  or  country  pursuits,  or  science',  or 
research,  which  will  secure  for  them  useful  and  honourable 
lives.  Yet  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  even  these  will 
always  be  exceptions.  The  majority  of  men  fail  to  find  their 
work  unless  it  is  brought  before  them  prominently  by  cir-  - 
cumstances,  or  forced  upon  them  by  the  strong  pressure  of 
necessity.  Wealth  which  brings  with  it  no  ties  and  is  ob- 
tained and  enjoyed  with  no  effort  is  to  most  men  a  tempta 
tion  and  a  snare.  All  the  more  dissipated  capitals  and 
watering-places  of  Europe  and  America  are  full  of  examples 
of  men  in  this  position,  living  lives  of  absolute  frivolity,"  dis- 
sociated from  all  serious  interests,  ever  seeking  with  feverish 
eagerness  for  new  forms  of  pleasure,  raising  the  standard 
of  luxury  and  ostentation,  and  often,  in  still  graver  ways, 
depressing  the  moral  tone  of  the  society  in  which  they 
live.  ^ 

Considerations  of  this  kind  will  probably  be  treated  with 
much  disdain  by  Eadical  critics.  They  will  truly  say  that 
the  section  of  society  referred  to  forms  only  a  very  small 


DEMOCRACY    AND   WEALTH  297 

portion  of  the  population,  and  they  will  ask  whether  nations 
are  to  frame  their  institutions  with  the  object  of  providing 
occupation  for  the  spoilt  children  of  fortune,  and  saving 
them  from  their  own  frivolity  or  vice.  No  one,  I  suppose, 
would  maintain  that  they  should  do  so  ;  but,  in  estimating 
the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  different  institutions, 
many  weights  enter  into  either  scale  which  would  not  of 
themselves  be  sufficient  to  turn  the  balance.  It  is,  however, 
a  grave  error  to  suppose  that  the  evils  I  have  described  can 
be  confined  to  the  classes  who  are  immediately  concerned. 
It  is  impossible  that  the  upper  class  of  a  nation  can  become 
corrupt,  frivolous,  or  emasculated  without  affecting  deeply  and 
widely  the  whole  body  of  the  community.  Constituted  as 
human  nature  is,  rich  men  will  always  contribute  largely  to 
set  the  tone  of  society,  to  form  the  tastes,  habits,  ideals,  and 
aspirations  of  other  classes.  In  this  respect,  as  in  many 
others,  the  gradual  dissociation  of  the  upper  classes  from 
many  forms  of  public  duty  is  likely  to  prove  a  danger  to  the 
community. 

*  It  is  an  evil  which  appears  wherever  democracy  becomes 
ascendant,  though  its  progress  varies  much  in  different 
countries.  The  strong  traditions,  the  firmly  knit  organisation 
of  English  life,  have  hitherto  resisted  it  much  more  effectively 
than  most  nations.  No  one  can  say  that  the  upper  classes 
in  England  have  as  yet  abandoned  politics.  Those  who 
fear  this  change  may  derive  some  consolation  from  observing 
how  largely  the  most  Radical  Cabinets  of  our  time  have  con- 
sisted of  peers  and  connections  of  peers,  and  from  counting 
up  the  many  thousands  of  pounds  at  which  the  average  pri- 
vate incomes  of  their  members  may  be  estimated.  Nor 
indeed,  can  it  be  said  that  English  democracy,  on  either  side 
of  the  Atlantic,  shows  any  special  love  for  a  Spartan,  or 
Stoical,  or  Puritan  simplicity.  Mr.  Cecil  Rhodes  once  de- 
scribed a  prominent  politician  as  '  a  cynical  sybarite  who 
was  playing  the  demagogue  ; '  and  it  must  be  owned  that 
professions  of  a  very  austere  democracy  have  not  unfrequently 
been  found  united  with  the  keenest  appetite  for  wealth,  for 
pleasure,  and  even  for  titles.     The  political  and  economical 


298  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

influences,  however,  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  trace  have 
established  in  England,  as  elsewhere,  a  tendency  which  is 
not  the  less  real  because  it  has  not  yet  triumphed,  and  the 
experience  of  American  political  and  municipal  life  throws 
much  light  upon  the  path  along  which  we  are  moving.  The 
change  in  the  House  of  Commons  is  becoming  visible  to 
every  eye,  and  one  of  the  most  important  questions  for  the 
future  is  the  possibility  of  maintaining  an  Upper  Chamber  as 
a  permanent  and  powerful  element  in  the  Constitution. 


GOVERNMENT   BY   ONE   CHAMBER  .     299 


CHAPTEK   IV 

AEISTOCEACIES   AND   UPPER   CBAMBEES 

Of  all  the  forms  of  government  that  are  possible  among 
mankind,  I  do  not  know  any  which  is  likely' to  be  worse  than 
the  government  of  a  single  omnipotent  democratic  Chamber. 
It  is  at  least  as  susceptible  as  an  individual  despot  to  the 
temptations  that  grow  out  of  the  possession  of  an  uncon- 
trolled power,  and  it  is  likely  to  act  with  much  less  sense  of 
responsibility  and  much  less  real  deliberation.  The  neces- 
sity of  making  a  great  decision  seldom  fails  to  weigh  heavily 
on  a  single  despot,  but  when  the  responsibility  is  divided 
among  a  large  assembly,  it  is  greatly  attenuated.  Every 
considerable  assembly  also,  as  it  has  been  truly  said,  has  at 
times  something  of  the  character  of  a  mob.  Men  acting  in 
crowds  and  in  public,  and  amid  the  passions  of  conflict  and 
of  debate,  are  strangely  different  from  what  they  are  when 
considering  a  serious  question  in  the  calm  seclusion  of  their 
cabinets.  Party  interests  and  passions  ;  personal  likings  or 
dislikes  ;  the  power  of  rhetoric  ;  the  confusion  of  thought  that 
springs  from  momentary  impressions,  and  from  the  clash  of 
many  conflicting  arguments  ;  the  compromises  of  principle 
that  arise  from  attempts  to  combine  for  one  purpose  men  of 
different  opinions  or  interests  ;  mere  lassitude,  and  mere 
caprice,  all  act  powerfully  on  the  decisions  of  an  assembly. 
Many  members  are  entangled  by  pledges  they  had  incon- 
siderately given,  by  some  principle  they  had  admitted 
without  recognising  the  full  extent  to  which  it  might  be 
carried,  or  by  some  line  of  conduct  they  had  at  another 
period  pursued.  Personal  interest  plays  no  small  part ;  for 
the  consequence  and  pecuniary  interests  of  many  members 


300  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

are  bound  up  with  the  triumph  of  their  party,  while  many 
others  desire  beyond  all  things  a  renewal  of  their  mandate. 
They  know  that,  a  considerable  part  of  the  constituencies  to 
which  they  must  ultimately  appeal  is'  composed  of  fluctuat- 
ing masses  of  very  ignorant  men,  easily  swayed  by  clap-trap, 
by  appeals  to  class  interests  or  class  animosities,  and  for  the 
most  part  entirely  incapable  of  disentangling  a  difficult 
question,  judging  distant  and  obscure  consequences,  realising 
conditions  of  thought  and  life  widely  different  from  their 
own,  estimating  political  measures  according  to  their  true 
proportionate  value,  and  weighing  nicely  balanced  arguments 
in  a  judicial  spirit. 

The '  confusion  becomes  still  greater  when  Parliaments 
divide  into  a  number  of  small,  independent  groups,  each 
of  them  subordinating  general  political  interests  to  the 
furtherance  of  some  particular  interests  and  opinions,  and 
when  the  art  of  parliamentary  government  consists  mainly 
of  skill  in  combining  these  heterogeneous  fractions  in  a 
single  division.  The  first  condition  of  good  legislation  on 
any  particular  question,  as  of  most  other  good  work,  is 
that  it  should  be  single-minded — that  it  should  represent 
the  application  of  the  best  available  faculty  to  a  special 
purpose.  There  is  scarcely  a  contested  question  determined 
in  Parliament  in  which  motives  wholly  different  from  the 
ostensible  ones,  and  wholly  unconnected  with  the  im- 
mediate issue,  do  not  influence  many  votes.  It  is  also 
rather  the  rule  than  the  exception  that  a  general  elec- 
tion produces  a  change  of  government,  and  the  defeated 
minority  of  one  Parliament  becomes  the  majority  in  the 
next. 

There  is  certainly  no  proposition  in  politics  more  indu- 
bitable than  that  the  attempt  to  govern  a  great  heterogeneous 
empire  simply  by  such  an  assembly  must  ultimately  prove 
disastrous,  and  the  necessity  of  a  secona  Chamber,  to  exercise 
a  controlling,  modifying,  retarding,  and  steadying  influence 
has  acquired  almost  the  position  of  an  axiom.  Of  all  the 
many  parliamentary  constitutions  now  existing  in  the  world, 
Greece,  Mexico,  and  Servia  are,  I  believe,  the  only  ones  in 


GOVERNMENT   BY   ONE   CHAMBER  30 1 

which  independent  and  sovereign  nations  have  adopted  the 
system  of  a  single  Chamber,  and,  among  these,  Servia  is  only 
a  partial  exception.  According  to  the  Constitution  of  this 
little  country,  legislation  is,  in  ordinary  times,  conducted  by 
the  king  and  a  single  national  assembly,  in  which  one  out 
of  every  four  members  must  be  nominated  by  the  king,  and 
which  exercises  strictly  limited  and  denned  powers  ;  but  the 
sovereign  has  a  right  of  convoking  when  he'  pleases  a  second 
and  much  larger  assembly,  which  alone  is  competent  to 
deal  with  grave  questions  affecting  the  Constitution  and  the 
territory  of  the  State.1  Norway,  being  united  with  Sweden, 
is  not  an  absolutely  independent  country,  but  it  is  one  of 
the  countries  where  legislative  power  is  virtually  in  the 
hands  of  a  single  Chamber.  The  Storthing  is  a  single 
Chamber,  elected  at  a  single  election,  but,  when  it  meets,  it 
elects  out  of  its  own  body  a  second  Chamber,  consisting  of  a 
fourth  part  of  its  members.  The  extreme  concentration  of 
power  resulting  from  this  system  is  one  of  the  great  causes 
of  the  dangerous  tension  that  exists  in  the  relations  of 
Sweden  and  Norway. 

The  experience  of  the  past  abundantly  corroborates  the 
views  of  those  who  dread  government  by  a  single  Chamber. 
In  the  English  Commonwealth  such  a  system  for  a  short 
time  existed  ;  but  the  abolition  of  the  House  of  Lords  was 
soon  followed  by  the  expulsion  of  the  Commons,  and  when 
Cromwell  resolved  to  restore  some  measure  of  parliamentary 
government,  he  clearly  saw  that  two  Chambers  were  indis- 
pensable, and  he  revived  on  another  basis  the  House  of 
Lords.  In  America,  Franklin  had  strongly  advocated  a 
single  Chamber  ;  and  in  the  American  Confederation,  which 
was  formally  adopted  by  the  thirteen  States  in  1781,  and 
which  represented  the  United  States  in  the  first  years  of 
their  independent  existence,  the  Congress  consisted  of  only 
one  branch.  It  was  invested  with  very  small  powers,  and 
was  almost  as  completely  overshadowed  by  the  State  rights 

^  Demombrynes's  Les  Constitutions  Europiennes,  i.  715-24.  I  do  not  include 
the  Grand  Duchy  of  Finland,  the  Provincial  Diets  in  the  Austrian  Empire,  and 
a  few  small  Powers  holding  a  completely  subordinate  position  in  the  German 
system,  in  which  single  Chambers  exist. 


302  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  its  constituents  as  the  Cromwellian  House  of  Commons 
had  been  by  the  military  power  of  the  Commonwealth. 
But  the  very  first  article  of  the  American  Constitution, 
which  was  framed  in  1787,  divided  the  Congress  into  a 
Senate  and  a  House  of  Representatives.  In  all  the  separate 
States  the  bicameral  system  exists,  and  it  also  exists  in  all 
the  British  colonies  which  have  self-governing  powers.  In 
France,  Turgot  and  Sieyes  advocated  a  single  Chamber, 
and  in  the  French  Constitution  of  1791  all  power  was 
placed  in  the  hands  of  such  a  body,  the  result  being  one  of 
the  most  appalling  tyrannies  in  the  history  of  mankind. 
In  1848  the  same  experiment  was  once  more  tried,  and 
it  once  more  conducted  France  through  anarchy  to  des- 
potism. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  my  present  purpose  to  enter  into 
any  disquisition  about  the  origin  and  early  evolution  of  the 
House  of  Lords.  For  a  long  period  of  English  history  it 
was  a  small  and  a  diminishing  body,  and  in  the  fifteenth 
century  the  spiritual,  or  life  peers,  considerably  outnumbered 
the  temporal,  or  hereditary  ones.  The  Reformation  had  a 
capital  influence  on  the  constitution  of  the  House.  By 
removing  the  mitred  abbots,  it  made  the  temporal  peers 
a  clear  majority,  while  the  vast  distribution  of  monastic 
property  among  some  of  the  great  families  added  enor- 
mously to  their  influence.  From  this  time  the  lay,  or 
hereditary  peerage  steadily  increased.  Only  twenty-nine 
temporal  peers  had  been  summoned  to  the  first  Parliament  of 
Henry  VII.,  and  fifty-one  was  the  largest  number  summoned 
under  Henry  VIII.  ;  but  119  peers  were  summoned  to 
the  Parliament  of  1640,  and  139  to  the  Parliament  of 
1661. l  At  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century  the  tem- 
poral peerage  amounted  to  about  150;  in  the  first  Par- 
liament of  George  III.,  to  174.  In  1642,  the  bishops 
were  excluded  by  Act  of  Parliament  from  the  House 
of  Lords,  which  thus  became,  for  the  first  time  in  its 
history,  a  purely  hereditary  body  ;  and  in  1649  the  House 
of    Lords   was   abolished    by   the   vote   of    the    House   of 

1  May's  Const  Hist.  i.  232-35. 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  LORDS  303 

Commons.  At  the  Eestoration,  this  vote  being  of  course 
treated  as-  null,  the  House  revived,  and  by  an  Act  of 
Parliament  of  1661  the  bishops  were  again  introduced  into 
its  ranks. 

The  Revolution,  unlike  the  Commonwealth,  had  no  in- 
jurious effect  upon  it.  The  change  of  dynasty  was  largely 
due  to  the  action  of  the  heads  of  a  few  great  aristocratic 
families  ;  the  House  of  Lords  bore  a  very  conspicuous  part 
in  regulating  its  terms  ;  and  it  is  probably  no  exaggeration 
to  say  that  the  steady  Whig  preponderance  in  that  House 
mainly  secured  the  Revolution  settlement  during  the  long 
period  of  the  disputed  succession.  It  is  true  that,  in  the  re- 
division  of  power  which  resulted  from  the  decline  of  royal 
influence  at  the  Revolution,  the  larger  share  fell  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  by  the  time  of  Walpole  that  House, 
in  its  corporate  capacity,  was  certainly  the  strongest  body 
in  the  State ;  but  individual  peers  exercised  an  enormous 
influence  over  its  composition.  The  system  of  small  nomi- 
nation boroughs  was  chiefly  due  to  the  fluctuations  in  wealth 
and  population  in  the  community,  and  to  the  practical 
annihilation  of  the  old  prerogative  of  the  sovereign  of 
revising  the  representation  by  summoning  new  and  rising 
•places  to  send  members  to  the  Commons.  Most  of  those 
seats  passed  under  the  patronage  of  peers,  either  on  account  of 
the  vast  territorial  possessions  which  they  had  inherited,  or 
by  the  frequent  ennobling  of  great  merchant-princes,  who, 
by  means  of  venal  boroughs,  had  acquired  political  power, 
and  who  obtained  their  peerages  as  the  reward  of  political 
services. 

The  place  which  is  occupied  by  the  small  boroughs  in 
English  history  is  a  very  great  one.  At  the  time  when  the 
Revolution  settlement  was  seriously  disputed  they  gave  the 
Whig  party  a  steady  preponderance  of  parliamentary  power, 
thus  securing  it  from  those  violent  fluctuations  of  opinion 
which,  if  the  Legislature  had  been  really  popular,  would  have 
almost  certainly  proved  fatal  to  the  unsettled  dynasty.  They 
contributed,  also,  powerfully  to  the  general  harmony  be- 
tween  the   two   Houses,  and   they  enabled   the   House  of 


304  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Commons  to  grow  steadily  in  influence,  without  exciting  any 
hostility  on  the  part  of  the  Upper  House.  Perhaps  the  most 
dangerous  moment  in  the  history  of  the  peerage  was  in  1719, 
when  the  ministry  of  Sunderland  and  Stanhope  endeavoured 
to  make  it  a  close  body,  by  strictly  limiting  the  number  of  the 
House,  and  almost  wholly  depriving  the  sovereign  of  the 
power  of  creating  new  peers.  Chiefly  by  the  exertions  of 
Walpole,  this  measure  was  defeated  in  the  Commons,  and  no 
attempt  was  made  to  revive  it ;  and  the  presence  in  the  House 
of  Commons  of  large  numbers  of  heirs  to  peerages,  or  of 
younger  members  of  noble  families,  strengthened  the  harmony 
between  the  two  Houses. 

The  union  with  Scotland  not  only  introduced  sixteen 
peers  into  the  House  of  Lords  :  it  also  introduced  a  new 
principle,  as  those  peers  were  elected  for  a  single  Parliament 
by  their  fellow-peers.  For  a  long  period  they  were  far  from 
improving  the  constitution  of  the  House,  for  this  small  alien 
section  of  an  ancient  but  very  poor  aristocracy  proved 
exceedingly  subservient  to  Government  control.  The  system 
of  election  also  tended  greatly  to  the  misrepresentation  of 
the  peerage  ;  for  it  was  by  a  simple  majority,  and  the  party 
which  preponderated  in  the  Scotch  peerage  returned,  in 
consequence,  the  whole  body  of  the  representative  peers. 
The  position  of  the  minority  was  at  this  time  very  anomalous  ; 
for  while  the  method  of  election  made  it  impossible  for  them 
to  enter  the  House  of  Lords  as  representative  peers,  they 
were  at  the  same  time  incapacitated  by  law  from  sitting  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  the  House  of  Lords,  in  1711, 
passed  a  resolution  declaring  that,  although  the  sovereign 
might  confer  an  English  peerage  on  a  Scotch  peer,  he  had 
not  the  right  of  introducing  him  into  their  House.  The 
disability  was,  in  some  degree,  evaded  by  the  device  of  con- 
ferring English  peerages  on  the  eldest  sons  of  Scotch  peers  ; 
but  it  was  accepted  as  law  until  1782,  when  the  question 
was  referred  to  the  judges,  who  unanimously  pronounced  the 
resolution  of  1711  to  have  been  unauthorised  by  the  Act  of 
Union,  and  it  was  accordingly  rescinded  by  a  vote  of  the 
House  of  Lords.     From  this  time  the  right  of  conferring 


THE   IRISH   UNION  305 

English  peerages  on  the  minority  of  Scotch  peers  who  are 
excluded  by  their  politics  from  the  number  of  representative 
peers,  has  been  largely  exercised. 

On  the  accession  of  George  III.  the  position  of  the  House 
of  Lords  was  greatly  changed.  Hitherto  the  Whig  party 
had  predominated  in  its  ranks,  and  the  first  object  of  the 
young  King  was  to  break  down  the  power  of  a  group  of 
great  Whig  peers,  who  had  accumulated  masses  of  borough 
influence,  and  who  had  long  dominated  in  the  State.  This 
is  not  the  place  to  relate  the  long,  and  on  the  whole  suc- 
cessful, struggle  by  which  the  King  attained  his  ends  ;  but 
it  must  be  noticed  that  during  his  whole  reign  peers  drawn 
from  the  Tory  party  were  created  in  large  numbers  with  the 
object  of  giving  a  new  complexion  to  the  House  of  Lords. 
The  inducement  to  these  creations  was  probably  considera- 
bly increased  by  the  abolition  of  sinecure  places  under 
Burke's  measure  of  economical  reform,  which  deprived  the 
minister  of  a  large  part  of  his  former  means  of  rewarding 
political  services. 

The  Irish  Union  introduced  into  the  House  of  Lords 
a  new  body  of  twenty-eight  representative  peers.  In 
Ireland,  as  in  Scotland,  the  vicious  system  of  election 
by  simple  majority,  which  inevitably  gives  one  party  in 
the  peerage  a  monopoly,  was  adopted  ;  but  no  question  was 
ever  raised  about  the  power  of  the  Crown  to  introduce 
Irish  peers  into  the  House  of  Lords  by  the  bestowal  of 
English  peerages  ;  and  in  other  respects  the  Scotch  precedent 
was  not  exactly  followed.  The  Scotch  peers  were  elected 
for  one  Parliament,  but  the  Irish  peers  for  life.  The  Scotch 
peers  who  were  not  in  the  House  of  Lords  were  absolutely 
excluded  from  sitting  in  the  House  of  Commons  ;  but  an 
Irish  peer  who  was  not  a  representative  peer  might  sit  in 
the  Commons  for  an  English,  Scotch,  or  Welsh  constitu- 
ency. The  Scotch  peerage  was  closed  at  the  Union,  the 
sovereign  being  deprived  of  all  power  of  creating  Scotch 
peerages.  The  Irish  peerage  was  only  limited  at  the 
Union,  for  the  sovereign  retained  the  power  of  creating  one 
Irish   peerage   whenever   three   Irish   peerages  were  extin- 

vol.  1.  x 


306  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

x'guished— a  useless  power,  which  has  in  our  own  day  been 
surrendered. 

Another  important  difference  was  that,  the  Scotch  Church 
being  Presbyterian,  the  Scotch  Union  left  the  spiritual  peers 
unchanged,  while  the  Irish  Union  introduced  a  new  body  of 
spiritual  peers,  sitting  by  a  new  principle  of  rotation.  This 
slight  addition  of  an  archbishop  and  four  bishops  disappeared 
when  the  Irish  Church  was  disestablished  ;  but  it  repre- 
sents the  only  modern  increase  which  has  taken  place  in 
the  ^number  of  the  spiritual  peers  to  counterbalance  the 
great  increase  of  the  temporal  ones.  Several  new  English 
bishoprics,  it  is  true,  have  been  in  the  present  century 
created  ;  but  the  legislation  that  authorised  them  expressly 
provided  that  there  should  be  no  increase  in  the  number  of 
bishops  in  the  House  of  Lords.1  Two  archbishops  and  the 
bishops  of  London,  Durham,  and  Winchester  invariably  sit 
in  the  House  ;  but  of  the  remaining  bishops,  only  the  twenty- 
one  senior  bishops  sit  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  an 
unwritten  conventionality  greatly  restricts  their  interference 
in  purely  secular  politics. 

Few  things,  indeed,  in  English  history  are  more  signifi- 
cant than  the  change  which  has  taken  place  in  the  political 
influence  of  the  Church.  Great  Churchmen  once  continu- 
ally held  the  highest  offices  in  the  Government.  But  no 
clergyman  has  taken  part  in  an  English  Government  since 
the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  though  in  Ireland  a  succession  of 
great  governing  prelates  continued  far  into  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  spiritual  element  in  the  House  of  Lords  has 
become  a  small  fraction  in  the  House,  and  the  presence  of 
that  small  element  has  come  to  be  looked  upon  as  an  anomaly. 
Yet  the  bishops  sit  in  the  House  of  Lords  by  an  older  title 
than  any  section  of  the  lay  peerage,  with  the  possible  excep- 
tion of  the  earls,  and  for  a  considerable  period  of  English 
history  they  formed  the  majority  of  the  House.2  They  re- 
present, in  a  certain  measure,  the  principle  of  life  peerages, 

1  See,  e.g.,  10  and  11  Vict.  c.  108,  s.  2. 

-  See  Freeman's  essay  on  this  subject  in  the  fourth  series  of  his  Historical 
Essays. 


THE   TORY   PEERAGE  307 

to  which  modern  Liberal  tendencies  are  steadily  flowing ; 
for,  although  they  sit  in  the  House  by  an,  order  of  succession, 
it  is  a  succession  of  office,  and  not  a  succession  of  lineage  ; 
and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  appointed  furnishes  a 
strong  presumption  that  they  possess  a  more  than  average 
capacity,  a  more  than  average  knowledge  of  the  condition  of 
great  sections  of  the  English  people,  and  especially,  a  more  ' 
than  average  share  of  that  administrative  ability  which  is  so 
valuable  in  the  government  of  nations. 

The  strong  Tory  character  that  the  House  of  Lords 
assumed  in  the  reign  of  George  III.  has  been  in  many  ways  a 
misfortune  in  English  history,  but  it  is  far  from  certain  that 
it  was  unpopular.  The  House  of  Lords  was  never  at  this 
period  in  as  violent  conflict  with  the  popular  sentiment  as 
the  House  of  Commons  in  the  Wilkes  case.  The  most 
memorable  conflict  between  the  two  Houses  in  this  reign 
took  place  when  the  House  of  Lords  overthrew  the  coalition 
ministry,  which  commanded  a  great  majority  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  supported  Pitt  in  holding  office  for  three 
months  in  opposition  to  that  majority  ;  but  the  dissolution 
of  1784  decisively  vindicated  the  policy  of  the  Lords,  and 
proved  that  on  this  question  they  most  truly  represented  the 
sentiment  of  the  nation.  The  strong  hostility  to  reform 
which  undoubtedly  prevailed  in  the  House  of  Lords  in  the 
closing  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  in  the  early 
decades  of  the  nineteenth  century  represented  with  probably 
unexaggerated  fidelity  the  reaction  of  opinion  which  had 
passed  over  England  in  consequence  of  the  horrors  and 
calamities  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  its  anti-Catholic 
sentiment  was  fully  shared  by  the  English  people.  The  total 
defeat,  at  the  election  of  1807,  of  the  party  which  advocated 
a  policy  of  most  moderate  Catholic  concession  is  a  decisive 
proof.  It  was  not  indeed  until  1821  that  any  considerable 
divergence  on  this  question  was  shown  between  the  two 
Houses.  It  will  usually,  I  think,  be  found  that  the  House 
of  Lords  at  this  time,  in  the  actions  which  later  periods  have 
most  condemned,  represented  a  prejudice  which  was  predomi- 
nant in  the  country,  though  it  often  represented  it  in  a  slightly 


308  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

exaggerated  form,  and  with  a  somewhat  greater  persistence 
than  the  House  of  Commons.  The  presence  of  a  spiritual 
element  did  not  prevent  the  Upper  House  being  behind  the 
House  of  Commons  in  the  great  work  of  diminishing,  and 
at  last  abolishing,  the  horrors  of  the  slave  trade  ;  and  the 
authority  of  some  great  lawyers  who  sat  in  the  House  of 
Lords  was  the  direct  cause  of  its  opposition  to  some  of  the 
most  necessary  legal  reforms,  and  especially  to  the  mitiga- 
tion of  the  atrocities  of  the  criminal  code. 

There  are,  however,  two  facts  which  must  always  be  borne 
in  mind  in  comparing  the  House  of  Lords  in  the  corrupt  and 
unref orming  period  between  the  Outbreak  of  the  great  French 
war  and  the  Eeform  Bill  of  1832  with  the  House  of  Lords 
in  our  own  day.  Whatever  may  be  said  in  the  present  day 
of  the  class  prejudices,  the  class  apathy,  or  even  the  class 
interests,  of  its  members,  no  candid  man  will  deny  that  it  is 
an  eminently  independent  body,  absolutely  free  from  all  taint 
or  suspicion  of  corruption,  and  there  is  probably  no  legisla- 
tive body  in  the  world  in  which  motives  of  mere  personal 
interest  bear  a  smaller  share.  In  the  early  period  of  the 
century,  on  the  contrary,  a  great  and  dominating  section  of 
the  peerage  consisted  of  men  who  were  directly  bound  to  the 
Crown  by  places  or  pensions  ;  while  the  indirect  advantages 
of  the  peerage,  in  the  distribution  of  the  vast  patronage  in 
Church  and  State,  were  so  great  that  the  whole  body  was 
bound  to  the  existing  system  of  government  by  personal  and 
selfish  motives  of  the  strongest  kind.  '  The  far  greater  part 
of  the  peers,'  wrote  Queen  Caroline  to  George  IV.  in  1820, 
'  hold,  by  themselves  and  their  families,  offices,  pensions,  and 
emoluments  solely  at  the  will  and  pleasure  of  your  Majesty- 
There  are  more  than  four-fifths  of  the  peers  in  this  situation.' 
Wilberforce  mentioned  in  1811  that  more  than  half  the 
House  of  Lords  '  had  been  created  or  gifted  with  their  titles' 
since  1780,  and  the  special  object  of  these  creations  had  been 
to  make  the  House  completely  subservient  to  the  Crown  and 
to  the  Executive.1 

The  other  Vonsideration  is   the   borough   patronage,  to 

1  Walpole's  History  of  England,  i.  150. 


THE   PEERAGE   BEFORE   1832  309 

which  I  have  already  referred.  It  identified  the  interests  of 
the  peerage  in  the  closest  degree  with  opposition  to  reform. 
It  was  not  only  an  interest  of  power  and  of  family,  but  also 
an  interest  of  property,  for  these  boroughs  were  notoriously 
bought  and  sold.  Before  Curwen's  Act,  which  was  passed  in 
1809,  imposing  penalties  on  such  sales,  they  were  practised 
with  scarcely  any  concealment,  and  after  that  Act  they  still 
continued.  The  analysis  of  the  representation  given  in  Old- 
field's  'Representative  History,'  which  was  published  in  1816, 
shows  that,  out  of  the  513  members  who  then  represented 
England  and  Wales,  no  less  than  218  were  returned  by  the 
influence  or  nomination  of  eighty-seven  peers.  Scotland 
was  represented  by  forty-five  members,  of  whom  thirty-one 
were  returned  by  twenty-one  peers.  Ireland  was  represented 
by  one  hundred  members,  of  whom  fifty-one  were  returned 
by  thirty-six  peers.  Six  peers  returned  no  less  than  forty- 
five  members  to  the  House  of  Commons.1 

It  is  sufficiently  obvious  from  these  facts  that,  while  the 
forms  of  the  Constitution  have  remained  substantially 
unchanged,  its  character  and  working  have  been  essentially 
and  fundamentally  altered  by  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  and 
no  one  can  wonder  that  the  House  of  Lords  should  have 
resisted  that  Reform  Bill  with  a  persistence  which  nothing 
short  of  imminent  danger  of  a  revolution  and  the  threat  of  a 
great  immediate  creation  of  peers  could  overcome.  It  is, 
rather,  wonderful  that  a  peerage  exercising  such  power  should 
have  been,  on  the  whole,  so  steadily  in  touch  with  the  popular 
feeling ;  that  English  legislation  should  have  been  so  free 
from  the  privileges  of  taxation  and  many  kindred  abuses  in 
favour  of  the  aristocracy,  which  existed  in  most  continental 
countries ;  that  the  system  of  nomination  boroughs  should 
have  been  so  largely  employed  in  bringing  poor  men  of 
genius  and  promise  into  the  House  of  Commons  ;  that  so 
large  a  number  of  members  of  the  Upper  House  should  have 
been  in  the  van  of  every  great  movement  of  reform.  Even 
in  the  conflict  of  1832  this  characteristic  was  clearly  shown. 
Some  of  the  oldest  and  greatest  aristocratic  families  in  the 

1  May,  i.  282-306  ;  Oldfield,  vi.  285-300. 


3IO  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

kingdom  led  the  popular  cause.  It  was  noticed  that,  of 
the  peers  created  before  1790,  108  voted  in  favour  of  the 
Bill,  and  only  four  against  it,1  while,  until  the  very  last 
stage  of  the  struggle,  no  class  of  members  in  the  House  of 
Lords  were  more  strenuously  opposed  to  the  Bill  than  the 
bishops. 

Since  this  great  measure  the  position  of  the  House  of 
Lords  in  the  Constitution  has  fundamentally  altered.  It  no 
longer  claims  a  co-ordinate  power  with  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  legislation  :  it  exercises  a  secondary  position  in  the 
Constitution.  But  if  it  has  sometimes  retarded  measures  that 
were  both  useful  and  urgent,  it  also  discharges  functions 
of  great  and  of  increasing  utility.  It  exercises  a  suspensory 
veto,  delaying  measures  which  have  acquired  only  an 
uncertain,  transitory,  or  capricious  majority,  until  they  have 
become  clearly  the  deliberate  desire  of  the  constituencies. 
In  the  system  of  party  government  it  constantly  happens 
that  the  popularity  of  a  statesman,  or  the  ascendency  of  a 
party,  or  the  combination  at  an  election  of  many  distinct 
interests  or  motives  acting  simultaneously  on  many  different 
classes  of  electors,  brings  into  power  a  Government  many  of 
whose  measures  have  never  received  the  real  sanction  of  the 
electors.  Sometimes  lines  of  policy  of  great  importance 
are  first  started  in  the  course  of  a  session.  Often  measures 
of  great  importance  are  brought  forward  in  Parliament 
which  at  the  election  had  been  entirely  subsidiary  with 
the  electors  or  with  great  sections  of  them,  or  which  had 
come  to  them  with  the  disadvantage  of  novelty,  and  had 
never  been  thoroughly  understood  or  thoroughly  canvassed. 
Public  opinion  in  England  rarely  occupies  itself  seriously 
with  more  than  one  great  question  at  a  time,  and  those 
deliberate  and  widespread  convictions,  on  which  .alone  a 
national  policy  can  be  firmly  and  safely  based,  are  only 
arrived  at  after  a  long  period  of  discussion.  Nothing  can 
be  more  frequent  than  for  a  measure  to  obtain  a  majority  in 
the  House  of  Commons  which  has  never  been  either 
approved  of    or  considered  by  the  bulk  of  the  electors  by 

1  Molesworth's  History,  i.  203. 


/ 


FUNCTIONS   OF   THE   LORDS  3  I  I 

whom  that  majority  was  returned.  In  all  such  cases  it  is  a 
matter  of  vital  importance  that  there  should  be  a  delaying 
power,  capable  of  obstructing  measures  till  they  have  been 
distinctly  sanctioned  by  the  electorate,  till  they  have  come 
to  represent  the  reasoned  and  deliberate  opinion  of  the 
constituencies. 

It  is  extremely  important,  too,  that  something  of  a 
judicial  element  should  be  infused  into  politics.  In  policies 
that  are  closely  connected  with  party  conflicts,  the  question 
of  party  interest  will  always  dominate  in  the  House  of 
Commons  over  the  question  of  intrinsic  merits.  A  bad  measure 
will  often  be  carried,  though  it  may  be  known  to  be  bad, 
when  the  only  alternative  is  the  displacement  of  a  ministry 
supported  by  a  majority.  Under  these  circumstances,  the 
existence  of  a  revising  Chamber  which  is  so  constituted  that 
it  can  reject  a  measure  without  overthrowing  a  ministry, 
and  which  is  not  dependent  on  the  many  chances  of  a  popu- 
lar election,  is  one  of  the  best  guarantees  of  sound  legislation. 

It  is  also  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  distinctive  excel- 
lences of  British  legislation  that  it  is  in  general  framed, 
not  on  the  system  of  giving  a  decisive  victory  to  one  set  of 
interests,  and  obtaining  perfect  symmetry  or  logical  co- 
herence, but  with  a  view  of  satisfying,  as  far  as  possible, 
many  different  and  conflicting  interests,  classes,  and  opinions. 
The  permanence  and  efficacy  of  legislation,  according  to 
English  notions,  depends  essentially  on  its  success  in  ob- 
taining the  widest  measure  of  assent  or  acquiescence,  and 
provoking  the  smallest  amount  of  friction  and  opposition. 
In  carrying  out  this  policy  the  action  of  the  House  of  Lords 
has  been  of  capital  importance.  Very  frequently  it  repre- 
sents especially  the  minority  which  is  overpowered  in  the 
other  House.  The  will  of  the  majority  in  the  stronger 
Chamber  ultimately  prevails,  but  scarcely  a  great  contentious 
measure  passes  into  the  Statute  Book  without  compromises, 
modifications,  or  amendments  designed  to  disarm  the 
opposition,  or  to  satisfy  the  wishes  of  minorities,  or  to  soften 
the  harsher  features  of  inevitable  transitions.  The  mere 
consciousness  that  there  is  another  and  a  revising  assembly, 


312  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

whose  assent  is  indispensable  to  legislation,  has  a  moderating 
influence  on  majorities  and  ministries  which  it  is  difficult  to 
overvalue.  The  tyranny  of  majorities  is,  of  all  forms  of 
tyranny,  that  which,  in  the  conditions  of  modern  life,  is  most 
to  be  feared,  and  against  which  it  should  be  the  chief  object 
of  a  wise  statesman  to  provide. 

It  is  an  easy  and  frequent  device  of  Radical  writers  to 
assail  the  House  of  Lords  by  enumerating  the  measures  of 
incontestable  value  which  it  had  for  a  time  rejected  or  de- 
layed. That  it  has  in  its  long  history  committed  many 
faults  no  candid  man  will  deny,  though  it  is  by  no  means 
equally  clear  that  they  have  greatly  exceeded  those  which 
have  been  committed  by  the  other  House.  In  my  own 
opinion  the  side  of  its  policy  which,  in  the  present  century, 
has  been  the  worst  is  that  relating  to  religious  disqualifica- 
tions, and  the  fact  is  the  more  remarkable  because,  in  the 
generation  that  followed  the  Revolution,  the  House  of  Lords 
was  incontestably  more  liberal  than  the  House  of  Commons 
in  all  questions  relating  to  Nonconformists.  In  more  modern 
times  this  has  not  been  the  case,  and  the  doctrine  that  the 
existence  of  an  Established  Church  implied  that  State  funds 
should  be  devoted  only  to  one  form  of  religion,  and  that 
the  great  fields  of  State  power,  education,  influence,  and 
employment  should  be  guarded  by  religious  qualifications 
against  the  adherents  of  other  faiths,  prevailed  in  the  House 
of  Lords  long  after  it  had  broken  down  in  the  Commons. 
It  is  a  doctrine  which  has  played  a  great,  and,  as  I  believe, 
most  mischievous,  part  in  English  history.  In  the  present 
century  it  has  probably  found  its  most  powerful  defence  in 
the  early  writings  and  speeches  of  Mr.  Gladstone. 

At  the  same  time,  many  things  may  be  alleged  which 
will  at  least  mitigate  the  blame  that,  on  such  grounds,  may 
be  attached  to  the  House  of  Lords.  An  assembly  which  is 
essentially  representative  of  property  and  tradition,  whose 
chief  duty  is  much  less  to  initiate  legislation  than  to  prevent 
that  which  is  hasty  and  unwise,  and  which  fulfils  rather  the 
function  of  a  brake  or  of  a  drag  than  of  a  propelling  force-, 
will  inevitably  be  slower  than  the  otr?er  House  to  adopt  con- 


THE   LORDS   IN   1832 


313 


stitutional  or  organic  changes.  The  legislative  reforms 
which  the  House  of  Lords  is  so  much  blamed  for  having 
rejected  all  became  law  with  its  consent ;  and,  on  the  whole, 
England  need  not  fear  comparison  with  any  other  country 
in  the  enlightened  character  of  her  legislation.  If  a  few 
countries  have  moved  more  rapidly,  very  few  have  moved  so 
surely,  and  the  permanence  of  her  reforms  and  the  tran- 
quillity with  which  they  were  effected  are  largely  due  to  the 
existence  of  a  Chamber  which  delayed  them  till  they  had 
been  thoroughly  sifted  and  incontestably  sanctioned  by  the 
nation,  and  which  disarmed  opposition  by  introducing  com- 
promises and  amendments  to  meet  the  wants  of  discontented 
minorities.  Of  the  measures  the  House  of  Lords  is  accused 
of  mutilating  or  delaying,  many  had  been  repeatedly  re- 
jected by  the  House  of  Commons  itself;  or  had  never  been- 
brought  clearly  and  directly  before  the  constituencies  ;  or 
had  been  supported  in  the  Lower  House  by  small,  doubt- 
ful, and  diminishing  majorities  ;  or  had  excited  little  more 
than  an  academic  interest,  touching  no  real  feeling  through- 
out the  nation.  It  has  seldom,  if  ever,  rejected  measures  on 
which  the  will  of  the  people  had  been  decisively  and  per- 
sistently expressed. 

The  moment  of  its  greatest  unpopularity  was  probably 
that  of  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  and  it  was  the  firm  per- 
suasion of  the  Radical  wing  of  the  triumphant  party  that 
one  early  and  inevitable  consequence  of  the  extended  suffrage 
would  be  the  destruction,  or  at  least  the  total  transforma- 
tion, of  the  House  of  Lords.  The  Whig  ministers,  it  is  true, 
gave  no  countenance  to  these  attacks,  but  the  agitation 
against  the  Lords  was  actively  maintained  by  O'Connell  and 
by  a  considerable  body  of  English  Eadicals.  One  attempt 
was  made  to  deprive  it  of  its  veto,  and  another  to  expel  the 
bishops  from  its  walls  ;  and  the  incompatibility  of  an  heredi- 
tary legislative  body  with  a  democratic  Parliament  was 
continually  affirmed  in  language  much  like  that  which  we 
so  abundantly  heard  before  the  election  of  1895.  The  re- 
sult of  this  agitation  is  very  instructive.  On  some  of  the 
questions  on  which  the  Houses  differed  the  House  of  Lords 


3J4  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

yielded,  insisting  only  on  minor  compromises.  On  the  im- 
portant question  of  the  appropriation  of  Irish  Church  funds 
to  secular  purposes  it  succeeded  in  carrying  its  point.  The 
agitation  for  an  organic  change  in  the  Constitution  was  soon 
found  to  excite  more  alarm  than  approbation  in  the  country. 
The  current  of  opinion  turned  strongly  against  the  agitators, 
and  against  the  Government  which  those  agitators  supported. 
In  less  than  ten  years  the  revolution  of  opinion  was  com- 
plete, and  the  election  of  May  1841  brought  a  Conservative 
minister  into  power  at  the  head  of  an  overwhelming  majority. 
We  may  next  consider  the  advantages  and  disadvantages 
of  the  hereditary  principle  in  the  Upper  House.  It  was  a 
saying  of  Franklin  that  there  is  no  more  reason  in  hereditary 
legislators  than  there  would  be  in  hereditary  professors  of 
mathematics.  In  England,  however,  there  is  no  question  of 
placing  the  making  of  laws  in  the  hands  of  an  hereditary 
class.  All  that  the  Constitution  provides  is,  that  the  members 
of  this  class  should  have  a  fixed  place,  in  concurrence  with 
others,  in  accomplishing  the  task.  It  is  absurd  to  expect 
that .  the  eldest  son  of  a  single  family  shall  always  dis- 
play exceptional  or  even  average  capacity,  and  this  is  one  of 
the  main  arguments  against  hereditary  despotic  monarchy, 
which  places  jn>  the  hands  of  one  man,  selected  on  the 
principle  of  strict  heredity,  one  of  the  most  arduous  and 
responsible  tasks  which  a  human  being  can  undertake.  It  is 
not,  however,,  absurd  to  expect  that  more  than  five  hundred 
families,  thrown  into  public  life  for  the  most  part  at  a  very 
early  age,  animated  by  all  its  traditions  and  ambitions,  and 
placed  under  circumstances  exceedingly  favourable  to  the 
development  of  political  talent,  should  produce  a  large 
amount  of  governing  faculty.  The  qualities  required  for 
successful  political  life  are  not,  like  poetry  or  the  higher  forms 
of  philosophy,  qualities  that  are  of  a  very  rare  and  exceptional 
order.  They  are,  for  the  most  part,  qualities  of  judgment, 
industry,  tact,  knowledge  of  men  and  of  affairs,  which  can  be 
attained  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection  by  men  of  no  very 
extraordinary  intellectual  powers.  Outside  the  circle  of  the 
leisured  classes,  most  men  only  rise  to  great  positions  in 


SOCIAL   ADVANTAGES   IN   POLITICS  315 

political  life  at  a  mature  age,  and  after  a  long  struggle  in 
other  spheres.  Their  minds  have  already  taken  their  definite 
ply.  Their  best  thoughts  and  efforts  have,  during  many 
years,  been  devoted  to  wholly  different  pursuits.  When 
they  come  into  the  House  of  Commons,  they  have,  in  many 
departments,  still  to  learn  the  rudiments  of  their  art.  Even 
if  they  are  men  of  real  and  solid  attainments,  they  have 
commonly  lost  their  flexibility,  and  defects  of  manner 
or  of  tact  which  might  be  easily  corrected  in  youth,  but 
which  become  indelible  in  mature  life,  often  obstruct  a 
political  career  far  more  seriously  than  much  graver  causes. 
Every  one  who  has  come  in  close  contact  with  parliamentary 
life  knows  how  seriously  the  popularity  and  influence  of 
members  of  very  real  attainments  have  been  impaired  by  the 
professorial  manner,  or  the  legal  manner,  or  the  purely 
academic  habit  of  mind,  or  the  egotism  and  false  sentiment 
that  often  accompany  a  self-made  man  ;  or  the  incapacity 
for  compromise,  for  avoiding  friction,  for  distinguishing 
different  degrees  of  importance  and  seriousness,  which 
characterises  a  man  who  has  not  had  the  education  of  a  man 
of  the  world.  A  man,  too,  who  is  not  marked  out  in  any  way 
by  his  position  for  parliamentary  distinction  is  more  tempted 
than  those  of  another  class  to  make  sacrifices  of  principle 
and  character  to  win  the  prize.  He  Is  likely  to  be  more 
absolutely  dependent  on  party  organisations,  more  governed 
by  the  desire  for  office  or  title  or  social  distinction. 

The  position  of  a  young  man,  on  the  other  hand,  who  has 
the  fortune  to  belong  to  one  of  the  great  governing  families 
is  very  different.  He  usually  obtains  the  best  education  the 
country  can  give  him,  and  he  possesses  the  inestimable 
advantage  of  coming  from  an  early  age  into  close,  constant, 
unconstrained  intercourse  with  men  who  are  actively  engaged 
in  the  government  of  the  country.  In  many  great  families 
the  whole  intellectual  atmosphere  is  political.  Political 
topics  are  those  which  are  most  constantly  discussed  around 
him,  and  the  pride  and  greatness  of  the  family  lie  mainly 
in  the  political  distinction  which  has  been  achieved  by 
its  members  in   the   past,  and  the  political  influence   and 


316  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

connections  they  possess  in  the  present.  Examples  and  in- 
centives are  thus  formed,  which  seldom  fail  to  act  powerfully 
on  a  young  man  of  talent  and  ambition,  and  the  path  that  is 
before  him  is  cleanly  marked  out.  He  travels,  and  knows 
something  of  foreign  languages,  and  although  his  knowledge 
of  the  Continent  is  usually  exceedingly  superficial,  it  is  above 
the  average  that  is  attained  in  trade  or  in  the  professions  ; 
while  the  social  element  in  which  he  moves  requires  from 
him  some  tincture  of  general  reading.  He  has  usually  the 
immense  advantage  of  entering  the  House  of  Commons 
when  he  is  still  a  young  man,  and  he  very  probably  soon 
fills  one  of  the  subordinate  offices.  As  an  actual  or  expectant 
landlord,  as  a  magistrate,  as  the  political  leader  of  his  dis- 
trict, as  the  initiator  or  president  of  many  local  institutions 
or  movements,  he  obtains  an  early  aptitude  for  business, 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  characters  and  circumstances 
of  great  sections  of  the  people,  which  will  be  more  useful  to 
him  than  any  lesson  that  he  can  learn  from  books.  The 
manners  of  a  gentleman  come  to  him  almost  as  a  birthright, 
and  no  good  judge  will  fail  to  recognise  their  importance  in 
political  life.  Self-confidence  unalloyed  by  arrogance  or 
egotism  ;  the  light  touch,  the  instinctive  tact  which  lessens 
friction  and  avoids  points  of  difference  ;  the  spirit  of  compro- 
mise and  conciliation,  which  is  so  useful  in  the  management 
of  men  and  in  the  conduct  of  affairs,  are  the  natural  products 
of  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  was  born.  Having  a  great 
independent  position,  he  is  less  accessible  than  poorer  men 
to  the  sordid  motives  that  play  so  large  a  part  in  public  life  ; 
while  the  standard  of  honour  of  his  class,  though  it  by  no 
means  covers  the  whole  field  of  morals,  at  least  guards 
him  against  that  large  department  of  bad  acts  which  can  be 
designated  as  ungentlemanlyt 

The  reader  will,  of  'course,  .understand  that  this  descrip- 
tion has  only  a  very  general  application.  There  are  many 
cases  in  which  great  names  and  positions  are  associated 
only  with  lives  of  mischievous  self-indulgence  or  scandalous 
vice.  There  are  circles  where  luxury  is  carried  to  such  a 
pitch  that  men  almost  come  to  resemble  that  strange  species 


THE   CLASS   AVERAGE  3  1  7 

of  ant  which  is  so  dependent  on  the  ministrations  of  its 
slave  ants  that  it  would  starve  to  death  if  these  were  not 
present  to  feed  it.  The  enormous  and  elaborate  waste  of 
time,  the  colossal  luxury  of  ostentation,  the  endless  routine 
of  dressing  and  gossip  and  frivolous  amusements  that  pre- 
vail in  some  great  country  houses,  form  an  atmosphere 
which  is  well  fitted  to  kill  all  earnestness  of  purpose  and 
conviction.  The  pleasures  of  life  are  made  its  business. 
The  slaughter  of  countless  beasts  and  birds  is  treated 
as  if  it  were  a  main  object  of  existence.  Life  is  looked 
down  upon  as  from  an  opera-box,  till  all  sense  of  its  serious- 
ness seems  to  vanish,  and  the  conflicts  of  parties  are 
followed  with  a  merely  sporting  interest,  much  like  that 
which  is  centred  on  the  rival  horses  at  Newmarket  or  Ascot. 

It  is  no  less  true  that  there  are  numerous  cases  in  which 
men  who  were  born  in  spheres  far  removed  from  those  of 
the  governing  families  have  exhibited  in  high  perfection  all 
the  best  qualities  which  the  aristocratic  system  is  calculated 
to  foster.  But  we  are  dealing  here  with  class  averages,  and 
few  persons,  I  think,  will  dispute  the  high  average  of 
capacity  for  government  which  the  circumstances  of  Eng- 
lish aristocratic  life  tend  to  produce.  An  English  aristocracy, 
as  has  been  often  observed,  is  essentially  different  from  those 
foreign  aristocracies  which  constitute  a  separate  easte.  Its 
members  have  always  largely  intermarried  with  commoners. 
Their  children,  except  the  eldest,  descend  speedily  into  the 
ranks  of  commoners ;  they  are  usually  obliged  to  make 
their  own  positions  by  their  own  efforts,  and,  since  the  great 
reforms  that  have  taken  place  in. the  bestowal  of  patronage, 
without  unfair  advantages  ;  and,  there  is  no  part  of  the  British 
Empire  in  which  members  of  great  British  families  may 
not  be  found  sharing  alike  the  most  arduous  labours  and  the 
most  hard- won  prizes. 

It  is  unfortunately  a  truth  only  too  abundantly  attested 
that,  as  a  general  rule,  few  greater  misfortunes  can  befall  a 
young  man  than  to  inherit  at  an  early  age  such  a  fortune  as 
places  at  his  feet  an  ample  range  of  enjoyments  without  the 
necessity  of  any  kind  of  labour.     Strong  intellectual  tastes 


318  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  powers,  and  unusual  force  of  character,  will  make  their 
way  through  any  circumstances,  but  the  common  lot  of  man 
is  to  be  commonplace — though  there  are  few  imputations 
which  most  men  more  bitterly  resent — and  it  is  not  natural 
for  a  young  man  of  small  talent  and  very  ordinary  character 
to  devote  himself  to  steady  labour  when  no  necessity  urges 
him,  and  when  all  the  means  of  self-indulgence  are  at  his 
disposal.  On  the  Continent  such  young  men  commonly  gravi- 
tate to  the  towns,  where  a  life  of  pleasure  soon  passes  into  a 
life  of  vice.  In  England,  the  passion  for  field  sports  has  at 
least  the  advantage  of  supplying  a  large  sphere  of  unintel- 
lectual  and  absorbing  amusement  which  is  healthy,  manly, 
and  innocent ;  but,  as  I  have  already  observed,  the  special 
preservative  in  England  of  the  character  of  such  men  lies  in 
a  social  condition  which  assigns  to  a  wealthy  class  a  large 
circle  of  necessary  duties,  and  makes  the  gratuitous  discharge 
of  public  functions  the  appanage  and  sign  of  dignity. 

Another  consideration  must  be  mentioned,  of  a  different 
and  more  delicate  kind.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the 
conditions  most  favourable  for  a  high  average  of  morality  are 
to  be  found  in  the  temperate  zones  of  life,  removed  from  the 
ignorance,  the  degrading  associations,  and  the  keen  temp- 
tations of  want,  and  also  from  the  luxurious,  enervating, 
self-indulgent  habits  of  superabundant  wealth.  The  one 
great  moral  advantage  which  specially  belongs  to  the  latter 
sphere  is  the  facility  of  early  marriage  which  an  assured 
competence  gives,  and  which  provides  in  a  very  critical  period 
of  life  a  strong  regulating  influence  of  character.  It  will,  I 
think,  be  found  that  these  marriages  are  more  general 
among  rich  men  connected  with  a  landed  aristocracy  than 
among  those  whose  fortunes  have  been  rapidly  made  by 
commerce  or  speculation.  Questions  of  succession  hold  a 
larger  place  in  the  lives  of  the  former  class.  An  established 
position  and  the  possession  of  a  great  historic  house  bring 
duties  of  hospitality  which  make  marriage  almost  a  necessity, 
and  which  are  rarely  fully  learned  except  by  early  practice ; 
and  the  women  who  give  the  tone  and  the  attraction  to 
English   aristocratic  society  seldom  fail,  even  in  the  most 


ARISTOCRATIC   MARRIAGES  AND   TASTES  319 

frivolous  and  pleasure-loving  circles,  to  insist  on  a  degree  of 
decorum  in  the  relation  of  the  sexes  which  is  not  always 
found  in  corresponding  societies  in  other  lands. 

The  importance  of  this  question  of  marriage  is  very  great, 
and  modern  science  has  thrown  much  light  on  its  far-reach- 
ing consequences.  Marriages  confined  to  a  restricted  caste, 
such  as  are  usual  in  royal  families  and,  in  a  less  degree,  in 
some  foreign  aristocracies,  seldom  fail  to  result  in  physical, 
mental,  or  moral  debility.  An  aristocracy  which  marries 
mainly  and  habitually  for  wealth  is  likely  to  be  a  dwindling 
body.  The  great  heiress  who  concentrates  in  her  own 
person  the  fortunes  of  a  family  is  commonly  such  because 
she  comes  from  a  family  in  which  children  are  unusually 
few,  or  in  which  deaths  are  unusually  numerous,  and  the 
introduction  of  such  women  into  a  family  has  therefore  a 
natural  tendency  to  lower  the  average  of  its  productivity.1 
But  where  marriages  are  not  unduly  limited  by  conventional 
restraints,  and  where  wealth  is  not  too  exclusively  sought, 
the  great  advantage  of  choice  which  an  illustrious  position 
gives  in  what  is  called,  not  quite  unjustly,  the  '  matrimonial 
market,'  has  an  undoubted  tendency  to  improve  and  invigo- 
rate a  race,  by  grafting  into  its  stock  an  unusual  proportion 
of  more  than  common  physical  and  mental  endowments. 
Country  lives  and  tastes,  and  the  general  character  of  their 
marriages,  have  thus  combined  to  give  the  upper  classes  in 
England  a  high  physical  average,  which  has  contributed  in 
no  small  degree  to  their  influence  in  the  world.  Whatever 
else  may  be  said  of  them,  no  one  at  least  can  accuse  them 
of  being  an  effete  and  debilitated  class.  The  energy  with 
which  they  throw  themselves  into  their  sports  and  travels 
and  political  contests,  the  mark  they  have  made  in  so  many 
fields,  the  prominent  part  they  have  taken  in  the  initiation 
of  so  many  enterprises,  the  skill,  industry,  and  success  with 
which  they  have  managed  great  properties  and  guided  local 
affairs,  are  sufficiently  evident. 

There  is  no  better  sign  of  the  vitality  of  a  class  than  its 
flexibility  of  adaptation  ;  and  in  this  respect  the  upper  classes 
1  See  Mr.  Galton's  Hereditary  Genius,  pp.  131-40. 


320 


DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 


in  England  have  been,  in  the  present  century,  abundantly 
proved.  When  the  great  democratic  movement  deprived 
them  of  a  monopoly  or  a  preference  in  vast  fields  of  ad- 
ministration and  patronage,  they  did  not  shrink  from  public 
life,  but  at  once  accepted  the  new  conditions,  flung  them- 
selves boldly  and  skilfully  into  all  the  competitions  of  Eng- 
lish life,  and  retrieved  by  talent  and  personal  popularity  a 
great  part  of  the  ascendency  of  which  they  had  been  de- 
prived by  law.  A  still  graver  trial  followed  when  agricul- 
tural depression  fell  with  terrible  effect  on  the  main  sources 
of  their  income.  Few  things  are  more  striking  in  modern 
English  history  than  the  courage  and  high  spirit  with 
which  the  landed  gentry  of  England,  both  of  the  higher  and 
lower  grades,  have,  on  the  whole,  met  the  trial,  discarding 
conventional  rules  and  restraints  which  limited  their  means 
<\  of  acquiring  fortune,  bearing  with  uncomplaining  fortitude 
great  changes  of  life  and  habits,  throwing  themselves  boldly 
into  a  multitude  of  new  industrial  enterprises,  sending  their 
children  to  seek  a  livelihood  in  the  counting-houses  of  mer- 
chants, the  ranches  of  Mexico,  or  the  diamond-fields  of  Africa. 
That  very  shrewd  and  competent  observer,  Archbishop 
Magee,  once  remarked  that  nothing  struck  him  more  in  the 
»  House  of  Lords  than  the  large  amount  of  curious  special 

knowledge  possessed  by  its  members.     When  the  most  out- 
of-the-way  subject  was  started  there  seemed  always,  he  said, 
some  obscure  peer  on  the  back  benches  who  had  made  this 
Cj  subject  a  study,  and  knew  all  about  it.     In  the  fields   of 

i  literature,    philosophy,    and    science,    the    achievements   of 

^ifwCtPt  memDers  of  that  House  have  been  very  considerable  ;  and  in 
numerous  cases,  where  no  original  work  is  produced,  an  un- 
. '  usually  high   level  of   scholarship  and   research   has  been 

attained.  But  it  is  naturally  in  political  life  that  the 
superior  qualities  of  the  class  have  been  most  displayed. 
No  one  who  is  well  acquainted  with  English  history  "tan 
fail  to  be  struck  with  the  very  large  number  of  its  mem- 
bers who  have  fully  held  their  own  in  the  conflicts  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  who  have  discharged  great 
public  duties  with  an  industry  and  a  skill  that  have  been 


\  * 


USES   OF   AN   ARISTOCRACY  32 1 

universally  recognised.  A  few  of  these  statesmen  have 
been  men  who  would  have  risen  from  almost  any  rank  of 
life  to  power  and  influence.  The  majority  have  been  men 
of  good,  but  not  extraordinary,  ability  who,  if  they  had  been 
born  in  humbler  spheres,  would  probably  have  led  creditable 
and  successful  lives,  but  have  been  little  heard  of,  but  who, 
being  placed  by  their  positions  on  the  threshold  of  public 
life,  and  enabled  from  an  early  age,  and  with  many  advantages, 
to  devote  themselves  to  it,  have  attained  a  proficiency  in 
statesmanship  that  has  been  of  great  service  to  their  country,  t  c 
Among  the  Prime  Ministers  since  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  * 
there  have  been  several  who  represent  names  and  families 
that  have  been  for  centuries  illustrious  in  English  history ; 
and,  in  our  own  generation,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  these 
Prime  Ministers  has  been  able,  without  incurring  the  smallest 
imputation  of  nepotism,  to  appoint  his  eldest  son,  and  an- 
other~of  them_to  appoint  his  nephew,  to  a  foremost  place  in 
his  Administration. 

The  value  of  this  state  of  things  to  the  nation  at  large  is 
very  great.  There  are  countries  where  a  public  man  is 
nothing  before  he  comes  to  office,  and  nothing  when  he  quits 
office,  and  almost  omnipotent  while  he  holds  office,  and 
where  this  is  the  case  public  affairs  seldom  fail  to  be  cor- 
ruptly, selfishly,  and  recklessly  administered.  It  is  of  no 
small  importance  that  a  nation  should  possess  a  class  of 
public  men,  of  undoubted  competence  and  experience,  who 
have  a  large  stake  in  the  prosperity  of  the  country,  who 
possess  a  great  position  independent  of  politics,  who  repre- 
sent very  eminently  the  traditions  and  the  continuity  of 
political  life,  and  who,  whatever  may  be  their  faults,  can 
at  least  be  trusted  to  administer  affairs  with  a  complete 
personal  integrity  and  honour.  In  the  fields  of  diplomacy, 
and  in  those  great  administrative  posts  which  are  so 
numerous  in  an  extended  empire,  high  rank,  and  the  manners 
that  commonly  accompany  it,  arc  especially  valuable,  and 
their  weight  is  not  the  least  powerfully  felt  in  dealing  with 
democracies.  The  monarchy  and  the  aristocracy,  which 
some  writers  regard  as  merely  ornamental  portions  of  the 

vol.  1.  Y 


.  'ftt  i  l  ( 
1*  nC'u 


32  2  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

constitution,  contribute  in  a  degree  which  is  not  often 
realised  to  its  greatness  and  its  cohesion.  It  is  not  the 
British  House  of  Commons,  but  the  British  Throne,  that  is 
the  centre  of  the  loyalty  and  affection  of  the  Colonies.  The 
disruption  of  America  from  the  British  Empire  was  largely 
due  to  the  encroachments  of  Parliament  on  the  ancient 
prerogative  of  the  Crown ;  and  no  small  part  of  the'  suc- 
cess of  English  colonial  government  is  due  to  the  class 
of  men  who  have  been  appointed  governors.  They  haye 
represented  in  high  perfection  the  type  of  aristocratic  states- 
man which  English  institutions  produce,  and  they  have 
displayed  a  higher  average  of  competence  and  character 
than  either  hereditary  sovereigns  or  elected  presidents. 
An  aristocratic  government  mainly  built  up  this  great 
Empire  in  the  past.  The  aristocratic  element  within  it 
undoubtedly  contributes  to  its  successful  administration 
in  the .  present.  Nor  is  it  a  matter  of  indifference  that  a 
large  proportion  of  the  men  who  have  held  high  office  in 
India  and  the  Colonies  return  after  their  period  of  office  to 
the  House  of  Lords,  bringing  to  it  a  knowledge  of  Indian 
and  colonial  affairs  that  is  seldom  equalled  in  the  House 
of  Commons. 

So  far  I  have  spoken  chiefly  of  the  ancient  hereditary 
element  in  the  House  of  Lords,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  this  element  is  constantly  recruited  from  without.  In 
addition  to  the  members  of  the  episcopal  bench,  great  land- 
lords, great  merchants  and  manufacturers,  great  lawyers  (in 
superabundant  measure) ,  great  soldiers,  sailors,  and  adminis- 
trators, are  constantly  pouring  into  the  House  of  Lords  ;  and 
it  is  also  the  resource  of,  many  experienced  statesmen  who 
for  some  cause  are  excluded  from  a  Cabinet  or  a  House  of 
Commons,  or  who  from  advancing  years,  or  failing  health, 
or  quiet  tastes,  find  the  strain  of  the  House  of  Commons 
excessive  or  distasteful.  The  system  of  promotion  is  far 
from  perfect,  and  some  of  its  defects  will  be  hereafter 
considered ;  but  it  at  least  gives  the  House  of  Lords  a 
diversified  and  representative  character.  To  those  who 
can   look   beyond   names   and   forms   to   the  substance   of 


ITS  REPRESENTATIVE   CHARACTER  323 

things,  it  is  sufficiently  evident  that  a  body  which  is  not 
elective  may  be  eminently  representative,  reflecting  and 
maintaining  with  great  fidelity  the  interests,  characters, 
wishes,  and  opinions  of  many  different  classes  in  the  com- 
munity. It  is  equally  certain  that  a  body  which  is  elected 
on  the  widest  popular  suffrage  may  be  so  largely  returned 
by  a  single  class,  or  by  ignorant  men  duped  by  artful  men, 
that  it  may  totally  fail  to  represent  in  their  true  proportion 
and  degree  the  genuine  opinions  and  the  various  interests  of 
its  constituents. 

Judging  by  this  test,  the  House  of  Lords  will,  I  think, 
rank  very  high.  Man  for  man,  it  is  quite  possible  that  it 
represents  more  ability  and  knowledge  than  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  its  members  are  certainly  able  to  discuss 
public  affairs  in  a  more  single-minded  and  disinterested 
spirit.  In  all  questions  of  law  ;  in  all  the  vast  range  of 
subjects  connected  with  county  government,  agricultural 
interests,  and  the  state  of  the  agricultural  poor  ;  in  questions 
connected  with  the  Church  and  the  army,  and  it  may,  I  think, 
be  added,  with  foreign  policy,  and  often  with  Indian  and 
colonial  policy,  its  superiority  of  knowledge  is  very  marked. 
It  contains  important  representatives  of  the  great  manu- 
facturing and  commercial  interests,  some  of  the  greatest 
owners  of  town  property,  some  of  the  most  experienced 
administrators  of  distant  portions  of  the  Empire.  Appoint- 
ments to  the  episcopacy  are  now  made  in  a  much  more 
rational  fashion  than  in  the  days  of  what  were  called  the 
'  Greek  Play  Bishops,'  when  this  dignity  was  chiefly  re- 
served for  men  who  had  attained  distinction  in  classical 
scholarship.  Probably  the  majority  of  modern  bishops  have 
been  rectors  of  large  parishes  in  town  or  country  ;  have 
come  into  close  touch  with  the  lives  of  the  poorer  classes  in 
the  community ;  have  spent  many  years  in  disinterested 
labour  for  their  benefit,  and  have  had  rare  opportunities 
of  understanding  their  real  wants,  characters,  tendencies, 
difficulties,  and  temptations.  As  the  reader  will  have 
gathered,  I  do  not  greatly  admire  the  action  of  the  bishops 
in   the  House  of  Lords  on  purely  ecclesiastical  questions, 

Y  2 


324  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  especially  on  questions  affecting  religious  liberty.  But, 
on  large  classes  of  questions  relating  to  the  poor,  it  is 
difficult  to  overrate  the  indirect  value  a  legislative  body 
derives  from  the  presence  of  men  who  possess  the  kind  of 
knowledge  and  the  kind  of  ability  which  are  to  be  found  in 
a  superior  parish  clergyman.  Philanthropists  who  have 
devoted  themselves  to  social  questions  with  eminent  skill 
and  generosity  have  been  found  within  the  House  of 
Lords.  It  always  includes  a  large  amount  of  matured  and 
experienced  statesmanship,  and  a  great  majority  of  those 
who  take  an  active  part  in  its  proceedings  have  been  at  least 
members  of  the  House  of  Commons. 

Such  an  assembly  may  have  serious  defects,  and  it  is 
certainly  not  fitted  in  the  nineteenth  century  to  take  the 
leading  place  in  the  Constitution  ;  but  no  candid  man  will 
deny  that  it  is  largely  representative,  and  that  it  includes 
in  a  rare  degree  the  qualities  and  the  elements  that  are  most 
needed  in  revising  and  perfecting  legislation.  Its  members 
are  the  natural  heads  of  the  gentry, .  and  especially  of  the 
landed  gentry,  and  it  represents  their  sentiments  and  is 
supported  by  their  strength.  Wise  statesmanship  will 
always  seek  to  strengthen  government  by  connecting  it  with 
the  chief  elements  of  independent  influence,  power,  and 
popularity  that  exist  throughout  the  nation.  No  one  who 
has  any  real  knowledge  of  the.  English  people  will  doubt  the 
high  place  the  aristocracy  holds  among  these  elements. 
Every  electioneering  agent  knows  that  the  son  of  a  great 
peer  is  one  of  the  best  parliamentary  candidates  he  can  run. 
More  than  190  members  of  the  present  House  of  Lords 
have  been  previously  elected  to  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
a  great  proportion  of  them  have  passed  directly  from  the 
Lower  into  the  Upper  House.1  In  choosing  directors  for 
companies,  presidents  for  charities,  chairmen  for  public 
meetings,    initiators    for   almost    every   kind   of   social,  in- 

1  In  a  speech  by  Mr.  Curzon,  in  a  debate  on  the  House  of  Lords  (March  9, 
1888),  it  is  stated  that  there  were  then  194  peers  who  had  sat  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  In  the  Constitutional  Yearbook  for  1893  the  number  at  that  time 
is  said  (p.  60)  to  be  192. 


SOURCES  OF  ITS  INFLUENCE  325 

dustrial,  political,  or  philanthropic  movement,  the  English 
people  naturally  turn  to  this  quarter.  The  adulation  of 
rank  in  great  bodies  of  men  is  often  irrational,  even  to  ab- 
surdity, and  is  connected  with  a  vein  of  vulgarity  that  runs 
deeply  through  English  nature.  But,  whatever  may  be 
thought  of  it,  it  at  least  shows  that  the  position  assigned 
to  the  House  of  Lords  in  the  Constitution  is  not  a  mere 
arbitrary,  or  exotic,  or  archaic  thing,  bu,t  represents  a 
real  and  living  force  of  opinion  and  affection.  Political 
leaders  may  talk  the  language  of  pure  democracy  from  the 
platform,  but  no  Cabinet,  however  Radical,  has  ever  sat  in 
England  which  did  not  consist  largely  of  peers  and  of  men 
who  were  connected  with  peers,  while  the  great  majority  of 
the  other  members  have  been  usually  possessors  of  con- 
siderable independent  fortunes. 

Nor  is  the  popular  English  sentiment  about  rank  in  all 
respects  vulgar  or  irrational.  In  a  vast  crowded  population 
established  position  does  something  to  raise  a  man  into  the 
clear  light  of  day  ;  it  forms  some  guarantee  of  independence 
and  of  integrity ;  and  something  at  least  of  the  prevailing 
feeling  is  due  to  a  well-founded  conviction  that  the  British 
aristocracy  have  been  distinguished  as  a  class  for  their  high 
standard  both  of  personal  honour  and  of  public  duty.  It  is 
idle  to  suppose  that  great  masses  will  ever  judge  men  mainly 
by  their  intellectual  or  moral  qualities.  Other  and  lower 
measures  will  inevitably  prevail ;  and,  as  I  have  elsewhere 
said,  '  When  the  worship  of  rank  and  the  worship  of  wealth 
are  in  competition,  it  may  at  least  be  said  that  the  exist- 
ence of  two  idols  diminishes  by  dividing  the  force  of  each 
superstition,  and  that  the  latter  evil  is  an  increasing  one, 
while  the  former  is  never  again  likely  to  be  a  danger.' 
In  England  the  aristocratic  classes  have  no  longer  the 
complete  preponderance  of  wealth  they  once  possessed,  and 
the  great  depression  of  land  has  contributed  materially 
to  alter  their  position;  but  they  are  still  a  very  wealthy 
class,  and  some  of  their  members  are  among  the  richest  men 
in  the  world.  But  great  wealth  in  their  hands  is  at  least 
not  mere  plutocracy.     It  is  connected  with,  and  tempered  by, 


326  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

another  order  of  ideas.  It  is  associated  with  an  assured 
social  position,  with  an  hereditary  standard  of  honour, 
with  great  responsibilities,  with  a  large  circle  of  administra- 
tive duties.  If  aristocracy  were  to  cease  to  be  a  power  in 
England,  its  social  influence  would  chiefly  pass  to  mere 
wealth,  and  its  political  influence  would  largely  pass  to  the 
managers  of  party  organisations  and  to  demagogues. 

The  evils  that  spring  from  mere  plutocracy  are  great,  and 
increasing.  One  of  the  most  evident  is  the  enormous 
growth  of  luxurious  living.  The  evil  does  not,  in  my  opinion, 
lie  in  the  multiplication  of  pleasures.  Amusement,  no  doubt, 
occupies  a  very  disproportionate  place  in  many  lives,  and 
many  men  grossly  mismanage  their  pleasures,  and  the 
amount  of  amusement  expected  by  all  classes  and  ages  has 
within  the  last  generation  greatly  increased.  But  those  who 
have  realised  the  infinite  pathos  of  human  life,  and  the  vast 
variety  of  human  tastes,  characters,  and  temptations,  will 
hesitate  much  to  abridge  the  sum  of  human  enjoyment,  and 
will  look  with  an  indulgent  eye  on  many  pleasures  which  are 
far  from  cultivated,  elevating,  and  refined,  provided  they  are 
not  positively  vicious,  and  do  not  bring  with  them  grave  and 
manifest  evils.  What  is  really  to  be  deplored  is  the  inordinate 
and  ever-increasing  expenditure  on  things  which  add  no- 
thing, or  almost  nothing,  to  human  enjoyment.  It  is  the 
race  of  luxury,  the  mere  ostentation  of  wealth,  which  values 
all  things  by  their  cost. 

This  feeling  is  wholly  distinct  from  the  love  of  art.  To 
minds  infected  with  it  beauty  itself  is  nothing  if  it  is 
common,  The  rose  and  the  violet  make  way  for  the 
stephanotis  and  the  orchid.  Common  fruits  and  vegetables 
are  produced  at  great  expense  in  an  unnatural  season. 
The  play  is  estimated  by  the  splendour  of  its  scenery. 
Innumerable  attendants,  gorgeous  upholstery,  masses  of 
dazzling  jewellery,  rare  dishes  from  distant  countries, 
ingenious  and  unexpected  refinements  of  costly  luxury, 
are  the  chief  marks  of  their  entertainments,  and  the 
hand  of  the  millionaire  is  always  seen.  Nor  is  the  evil 
restricted  to  the  small  circle  of  the  very  rich.     From  rank  to 


INCREASING   LUXURY  327 

rank  the  standard  of  social  requirement  is  raised,  making 
society  more  cumbrous,  extravagant,  and  ostentatious, 
driving  from  it  by  the  costliness  of  its  accessories  many 
who  are  eminently  fitted  to  adorn  it,  and  ruining  many 
others  by  the  competition  of  idle,  joyless,  useless  display. 
It  is  a  tendency  which  vulgarises  and  materialises  vast 
fields  of  English  life,  and  is  preparing  great  catastrophes 
for  the  future. 

The  acquisition  of  gigantic  fortunes  in  trade  or  specula- 
tion, and  the  desire  to  attain  by  these  fortunes  a  high  social 
position,  are  the  main  causes  of  this  increasing  luxury, 
which  is  so  prominent  in  England  and  America,  and  which 
contrasts  so  unfavourably  with  the  far  simpler  and  more 
human  social  intercourse  of  many  foreign  countries.  Econo- 
mists perhaps  press  their  case  too  far  when  they  assert  that 
this  kind  of  expenditure  is  wholly  unproductive.  The 
attraction  of  luxury,  and  of  the  social  consideration  it  implies, 
is  a  great  spur  to  labour,  and  especially  to  the  continuance 
of  labour  after  a  moderate  competence  has  been  acquired. 
But  economists  are  not  wrong  in  pointing  out  the  enormous 
waste  of  the  means  of  happiness  which  it  implies,  and  its 
moral  and  political  evils  are  at  least  as  great  as  its  economi- 
cal ones. 

An  aristocracy  occupying  an  undisputed  social  position 
might  do  much  to  check  this  tendency.  At  a  time  when 
the  class  whom  they  specially  represent  are  passing  through 
the  dark  shadow  of  a  ruinous  agricultural  depression,  it 
would  be  peculiarly  graceful  and  patriotic  if  those  among 
them  who,  through  their  urban  properties  or  their  mineral 
wealth,  have  escaped  the  calamity,  would  set,  without  com- 
pulsion, the  example  of  a  simpler  scale  of  living.  Some  of 
them  have  done  so.  Others  have  themselves  retained,  amid 
very  luxurious  surroundings,  much  personal  simplicity  of  life 
and  tastes.  The  doctrine  of  the  moral  obligation  attaching 
to  wealth  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  moral  convictions  of 
mankind.  '  If  thou  art  exalted  after  having  been  low,'  says 
an  Egyptian  writer  who  is  believed  to  have  lived  no  less  than 


328  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

3,800  years  before  the  Christian  era,1  'if  thou  art  rich  after 
having  been  needy,  harden  not  thy  heart  because  of  thy 
elevation.  Thou  hast  but  become  a  steward  of  the  good 
things  belonging  to  the  gods.'  On  the  whole,  this  truth  is 
probably  more  acted  on  by  rich  men  whose  properties  are 
connected  with  land  than  by  any  others.  England  always 
furnishes  many  examples  of  great  fortunes  expended  with 
noble,  judicious,  and  unselfish  munificence,  sometimes  in 
public  works  which  no  moderate  fortune  could  undertake, 
very  often  in  raising  the  whole  level  of  comfort  and  civilisa- 
tion over  an  extensive  property.  One  of  the  greatest  land- 
lords in  England  told  me  that  he  calculated  that,  in  his  own 
case,  for  every  100Z.  that  came  out  of  land,  751.  went  back  to 
it.  Many  others,  as  patrons  of  art,  have  blended  their  per- 
sonal gratification  with  much  benefit  to  the  country. 

Much,  too,  of  what  appears  luxury  is  not  really  selfish. 
The  vast  parks  that  surround  so  many  great  country  houses 
are  in  numerous  cases  thrown  open  with  such  a  liberality 
that  they  are  virtually  public  property,  though  supported 
exclusively  by  private  means  ;  and  those  houses  themselves, 
and  the  art  treasures  which  they  contain,  have  been  for  the 
most  part  freely  exhibited  to  the  world.  It  must,  however, 
be  acknowledged  that  the  great  wave  of  increasing  luxury 
which  has  swept  over  England  has  been  fully  felt  in 
aristocratic  circles,  and  especially  in  country  life.  Among 
the  not  very  numerous  mistakes  that  have  been  made 
by  the  great  English  landed  gentry  as  a  class,  one  of  the 
most  conspicuous  has,  I  think,  been  that  enormous  over- 
preservation  of  game  which  grew  up  in  the  last  years  of  the 
eighteenth  century,2  and  has  steadily  increased  to  our  own 
day.  It  has  diminished  the  productiveness  of  great  areas  of 
English  land,  brought  into  the  country  a  new  form  of  ex- 
travagant luxury,  and  essentially  altered  and  lowered  the 
character  of  field  sports.     The  Epicurean  sportsman  who, 

1  The  Prissc  Papyrus.  See  Miss  Edwardes's  Pharaolis,  Fellahs,  and  Ex- 
plorers, p.  220. 

-  See  the  article  on  '  Battue  Shooting '  in  Blaine's  Encyclopadia-  of  Field 
Sports.  Battue '  shooting  had  existed  for  some  time  in  some  continental 
countries  before  it  was  introduced  into  England. 


PLUTOCRACY  329 

without  even  the  trouble  of  loading  his  guns,  shoots  down 
by  hundreds  the  pheasants  which  are  bred  like  chickens 
upon  his  estates,  and  which  are  driven  by  an  army  of 
beaters  into  his  presence,  is  by  no  means  a  beautiful  figure  in 
modern  country  life,  however  great  may  be  the  skill  which 
he  displays. 

But  the  worst  aspect  of  plutocracy  is  the  social  and 
political  influence  of  dishonestly  acquired  wealth.  While 
most  of  the  fields  of  patronage  and  professional  life  have 
been  greatly  purified  during  the  present  century,  the  con- 
ditions of  modern  enterprise  in  the  chief  European  countries, 
and  still  more  in  the  United  States,  give  much  scope  for 
kinds  of  speculation  and  financing  which  no  honest  man 
would  pursue,  and  by  which,  in  many  conspicuous  instances, 
colossal  fortunes  have  been  acquired.  It  is  an  evil  omen 
for  the  future  of  a  nation  when  men  who  have  acquired 
such  fortunes  force  their  way  into  great  social  positions,  and 
become  the  objects  of  admiration,  adulation,  and  imitation. 
One  of  the  first  duties,  and  one  of  the  chief  uses,  of  courts 
and  aristocracies  is  to  guard  the  higher  walks  of  society 
from  this  impure  contact  ;  and  when  courts  and  aris- 
tocracies betray  their  trust,  and  themselves  bow  before  the 
golden  idol,  the  period  of  their  own  downfall  is  not  far 
distant. 

No  one  who  is  acquainted  with  society  in  England, 
France,  and  America  can  be  blind  to  the  disquieting  signs 
of  the  increasing  prominence  of  this  evil.  With  the  decline 
of  rank  and  the  breaking  down  of  old  customs,  conventionali- 
ties, and  beliefs,  the  power  of  wealth  in  the  world  seems  to 
grow.  Where  cynicism  and  scepticism  have  sapped  the 
character,  wealth  comes  too  frequently  to  be  looked  on  as 
the  one  reality  of  life,  and  as  atoning  for  every  misdeed. 
When  the  decent  interval  has  elapsed,  when  the  period  of 
colossal  swindling  has  been  duly  succeeded  by  the  period 
of  lavish  and  splendid  hospitality,  mingled  perhaps  with 
ostentatious  charity,  the  love  of  pleasure  and  luxury  begins 
to  operate,  and  the  old  social  restrictions  give  way.  In 
England  it  may  be  truly  said  that  the  existence  and  social 


330  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  . 

supremacy  of  an  aristocracy  is  some  barrier  against  the  pre- 
dominance of  ill-gotten  riches.  Peerages  are  often  granted 
to  men  whose  chief  claim  is  their  wealth,  but,  with  few 
and  doubtful  exceptions,  this  has  been  only  done  when 
wealth  has  been  honestly  acquired,  and,  on  the  whole,  use- 
fully, or  at  least  respectably,  employed.  In  political  life, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  the  standard  is  less  high.  If  modern  British 
Governments  are  not  greatly  maligned,  there  have  been  in- 
stances in  which  peerages  and  other  honours  have  been  very 
literally  bought,  though  by  a  circuitous  process,  in  the  shape 
of  large  contributions  to  party  funds  ;  and  other  instances 
where  they  have  been  notoriously  given  to  fix  waverers,  to 
reward  apostasies,  to  induce  politicians  to  vote  for  measures 
which  they  would  otherwise  have  opposed.  But  it  is  per- 
haps not  too  much  to  say  that  this  is  the  only  form  of  dis- 
honesty which  has  of  late  years  been  rewarded  by  a  seat  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  For  the  most  part,  the  influence  of 
Court  and  aristocracy  has  been  on  the  side  of  social  purity 
and  financial  integrity,  though  there  have  been  obvious  and 
lamentable  exceptions. 

The  foregoing  considerations  will,  I  think,  serve  to  show 
that  the  hereditary  element  exercises  a  more  serious  and  far- 
reaching  influence  over  the  wellbeing  of  the  nation  than  is 
sometimes  supposed.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  impossible  to 
deny  that  the  House  of  Lords  does  not  occupy  the-  posir 
tion,  and  that  its  deliberations  do  not  carry  with  them  the 
weight,  that  might  be  expected  from  the  elements  of  which 
it  is  composed.  An  assembly  seems  sometimes  strangely 
greater,  and  sometimes  strangely  less,  than  its  members, 
and  few  things  are  more  curious  than  the  contrast  between 
the  too  evident  debility  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  its  cor- 
porate capacity,  and  the  great  weight  and  influence  of 
a  large  number  of  individual  peers.  As  Bagehot  has  justly 
observed,  the  peers  who  exercise  the  greatest  influence  in 
county  life  are  seldom  those  who  appear  most  prominently 
in  the  debates  of  the  House  of  Lords.  Except  on  great  and 
critical  occasions,  the  attendance  in  the  House  is  very  small : 
on  an  average  only  about  a  fifth  part  of  its  members  are 


DEBILITY   OF   THE   HOUSE  33 1 

present,  and  important  decisions  have  sometimes  been  taken 
in  the  presence  of  not  more  than  a  dozen  members.1 
Every  peer  who  passes  from  the  House  of  Commons  to  the 
House  of  Lords  is  struck  by  its  chilling,  well-bred  apathy, 
by  the  inattention  and  indifference  of  the  few  men  who,  on 
normal  occasions,  are  scattered  over  its  empty  benches 
while  some  statesman  of  first-class  eminence  is  unfolding  his 
policy.  A  few  remarks,  chiefly  addressed  to  the  reporters,  by 
the  leader  of  the  House,  by  the  leader  of  the  Opposition,  by 
a  great  lawyer  on  each  side,  and  perhaps — if  the  dinner- 
hour  is  not  too  near — by  one  or  two  independent  peers, 
usually  constitute  its  debates.  There  are  few  atmospheres 
in  which  }Toung  and  rising  talent  has  so  much  difficulty  in 
emerging. 

No  such  apathy  is  displayed  by  individual  peers  in  the 
affairs  of  their  counties  ;  or  in  the  special  Committees  of 
the  House  of  Lords,  which  often  do  admirable  work ;  or  by 
the  members  of  that  House  who  take  part  in  the  joint  Com- 
mittees of  the  two  Houses  ;  and  in  the  few  questions  which 
strongly  rouse  the  interest  of  the  House  its  debates  are 
often  models  of  grave,  eloquent,  and  exhaustive  discussion. 
Many  causes  conspire  to  the  prevailing  tone.  The  rule  that 
only  three  members  were  needed  to  form  a  quorum  had  a 
very  mischievous  effect,  and  a  considerable  improvement 
has  been  produced  by  a  recent  standing  order  which  pro- 
vides that  if  on  a  division  thirty  lords  are  not  present  the 
business  on  hand  shall  be  adjourned. 

Another  slight  improvement  was  the  suspension,  in  1868, 
of  the  old  privilege  of  the  peers  to  vote  by  proxy.  It  was 
not,  perhaps,  a  matter  of  great  practical  importance,  for  votes 
are  very  rarely  determined  by  debate,  and  on  party  ques- 
tions men's  opinions  are  early  formed,  and  may  be  easily  an- 
ticipated. The  system  of  pairing,  even  for  long  periods,  is 
fully  recognised  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  proxies,  as  is 

1  See  May's  Constitutional  History,  i.  271-72.  In  his  speech  on  the 
reform  of  the  House  of  Lords  (March  19.  1888),  Lord  Eosebery  stated  that  in 
the  session  of  I880  the  average  attendance  in  the  House  of  Lords  was  110, 
which  was  almost  exactly  a  fifth  part. 


332  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

well  known,  are  largely  employed  in  the  very  important 
meetings  for  the  management  of  companies.  At  the  same 
time,  it  was  easy  to  attack,  and  impossible  altogether  to 
defend,  a  system  by  which  the  men  who  gave  the  verdict 
were  not  those  who  heard  the  arguments ;  and  that  system 
had  also  the  disadvantage  of  strengthening  two  of  the  worst 
characteristics  of  the  House — the  scanty  attendance  of  its 
members,  and  the  excessive  power  often  exercised  by  a 
single  peer.  It  also  increased  the  political  importance  of  the 
class  of  peers  who,  by  their  tastes  and  habits,  are  most 
unfit  to  be  legislators,  and  who,  in  fact,  are  habitual  non- 
attendants.  Many  members  of  the  House  of  Lords  are  con- 
scious that  they  have  no  personal  competence  or  turn  for 
legislation.  Their  tastes  are  of  a  wholly  different  descrip- 
tion. They  would  never  have  aspired  to  election,  and, 
finding  themselves  legislators  by  accident  of  birth,  and  hav- 
ing no  ambition  or  other  strong  motive  to  impel  them,  they 
are  scarcely  ever  seen  within  the  House,  unless  they  are 
urgently  summoned  to  some  important  party  division. 
Under  the  old  system,  however,  they  exercised  much 
habitual  influence,  as  they  readily  gave  their  proxies  to  their 
party  chief. 

The  absence  of  such  men  from  a  legislative  body  is 
certainly  not  to  be  regretted.  Other  members  of  the  House 
feel  that  their  proper  sphere  of  action  is  elsewhere.  The 
bishops  know  that  their  special  work  lies  in  their  dioceses, 
and,  although  they  were  very  prominent  in  opposition  to  the 
Reform  Bill  of  1832,  an  unwritten  conventionality  now 
discourages  them  from  taking  much  part  in  politics  that  are 
unconnected  with  their  profession.  Some  great  nobles  are 
beginning  to  feel,  with  Carlyle,  that  their  true  work  lies  in 
the  wise  administration  of  their  vast  properties,  and  not  in 
political  contests,  where  they  can  only  play  a  secondary  and 
somewhat  humiliating  part.  The  consciousness  that  the 
House  of  Lords  must  always,  in  case  of  grave  difference, 
yield  to  the  House  of  Commons ;  that  every  expression  of 
independent  opinion  on  its  part  is  followed  by  insolent  threats 
of  revolution,  often  countenanced  or  instigated  by  leaders  of 


DEBILITY   OF   THE   HOUSE  333 

one  of  the  parties  in  the  State  ;  that  one  of  its  first  objects 
is  to  avoid  coming  into  collision  with  the  House  of  Commons, 
tends  to  make  it  distasteful  to  men  of  high  character  and  spirit. 
It  deprives  it  of  the  moral  force  and  confidence  without 
which  it  can  never  have  its  due  weight  in  the  Constitution. 
There  is  a  widespread  feeling  among  its  more  intelligent 
members  that  a  considerable  amount  of  well-bred  political 
languor  is  very  desirable  in  such  a  Chamber.  If  it  were 
animated  by  a  strong  and  earnest  political  spirit,  it  would 
never  acquiesce  in  the  completely  subordinate  position  as- 
signed to  it,  especially  as  this  position  is  largely  due  to 
usurpation  unsanctioned  by  law.  Collisions  would  inevitably 
arise,  and  some  organic  change  would  follow.1 

Two  other  causes  conspire  in  the  same  direction.  One 
of  them  is  the  jealousy  which  the  House  of  Commons  feels 
at  the  initiation  of  Bills  in  the  House  of  Lords.  A  session 
of  the  House  of  Lords  usually  consists  of  several  months  of 
almost  complete  inactivity,  followed  by  a  few  weeks  when 
the  pressure  of  work  sent  up  from  the  House  of  Commons  is 
so  great,  and  the  time  in  which  it  must  be  accomplished  so 
short,  that  it  is  impossible  that  the  work  of  revision,  which 
is  the  special  task  of  the  Upper  House,  can  be  accomplished 
with  proper  deliberation.  Of  all  the  many  wastes  of  power 
that  take  place  in  English  political  life,  few  are  more  de- 
plorable than  this.  Social  questions  have  come  to  be,  in  our 
day,  of  a  far  more  real  and  pressing  importance  than  purely 
political  ones  ;  and  in  the  House  of  Lords  the  country  pos- 
sesses a  legislative  body  which,  from  its  composition,  from 
its  comparative  leisure,  and  from  its  position  in  the  Constitu- 
tion, is  pre-eminently  fitted  to  deal  with  them.  In  almost 
every  joint  Committee  relating  to  social  questions  peers  have 
been  among  the  most  active  and  most  useful  members.  Yet 
during  many  months  of  the  year  the  House  of  Lords  is  almost 
idle.  Its  leaders  know  that  the  Commons  would  look  with 
distrust  on  any  Bill  originating  with  them,  and  there  is  little 

1  See  some  very  just,  but  wonderfully  candid  and  rather  cynical,  remarks  of 
Lord  Salisbury  on  this  subject  in  a  speech  on  Lord  Rosebery's  motion  for  the 
reform  of  the  House  of  Lords  (March  19.  18.^8). 


334  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

use  in  introducing  Bills  which  are  never  likely  to  become 
law. 

Another  cause  is  the  complete  exclusion  of  the  House  of 
Lords  from  all  financial  legislation.  In  the  opinion  of  the 
best  historians,  taxation  was  at  one  period  imposed  separately 
and  independently  by  Lords  and  Commons ;  but  the  Lords 
taxed  only  their  own  body,  and  the  Commons  the  classes 
they  represented.  After  this,  taxes  affecting  all  classes  alike 
were  made  by  the  Commons,  with  the  advice  and  assent  of 
the  Lords,  and  usually  as  a  result  of  a  conference  between 
the  two  Houses.1  The  sole  right  of  the  Commons  to 
originate  money  Bills  was  recognised  at  least  as  early  as  the 
reign  of  Kichard  II.,  and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  the 
Commons  began  to  omit  to  make  mention  of  the  Lords  in 
the  preambles  of  Bills  of  Supply,  as  though  the  grant  were  ex- 
clusively their  own,  though  the  Lords  were  always  mentioned 
in  the  enacting  words  of  the  Statute.  But  although  the  Upper 
House  could  not  originate  money  Bills,  it  had  for  some  centuries 
the  full  right  of  amending  them.  There  are  numerous  cases 
of  such  amendments  having  been  agreed  to,  and  the  right 
was  not  seriously  questioned  till  after  the  Restoration.  In 
1671  the  Commons  carried  a  resolution  '  that,  in  all  aids 
given  to  the  King  by  the  Commons,  the  rate  or  tax  ought 
not  to  be  altered ;  '  and  in  1678  they  went  still  further,  and 
resolved  '  that  all  aids  and  supplies,  and  aids  to  His  Majesty 
in  Parliament,  are  the  sole  gift  of  the  Commons,  and  all  Bills 
for  the  granting  of  any  such  aids  and  supplies  ought  to 
begin  with  the  Commons,  and  that  it  is  the  undoubted  and 
sole  right  of  the  Commons  to  direct,  limit,  and  appoint  in 
such  Bills  the  ends,  purposes,  considerations,  conditions, 
limitations,  and  qualifications  of  such  grants,  which  ought 
not  to  be  changed  or  altered  by  the  House  of  Lords.' 

The  peers  were  by  no  means  inclined  to  acquiesce  in 
these  claims.  In  the  conferences  that  ensued  they  '  utterly 
denied  any  such  right  in  the  Commons,  further  than  was 
agreed  for  the  beginning  of  money  Bills  only.'  '  In  all  other 
respects,'  they  said,   '  and  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  our 

1  Stubbs's  Const.  Hist.  iii.   282-83,  496-d7. 


AMENDING   MONEY   BILLS  335 

legislative  power  is  as  full  and  free  as  theirs ;  we  granted  as 
well  as  they  ;  they  could  not  grant  without  us,  not  so  much 
as  for  themselves,  much  less  for  us  ;  we  were  judges  and 
counsellors  to  consider  and  advise  concerning  the  ends  and 
occasions  for  money  as  well  as  they,'  with  the  sole  exception 
that  the  right  of  beginning  Bills  was  with  the  Commons. 

.  Hallam  has  truly  noticed  how  clearly  the  preponderance 
of  argument  and  precedent  in  these  conferences  was  on  the 
side  of  the  peers,1  and  a  resolution  of  the  House  of  Commons 
alone  has  no  legal  validity  ;  but  yet  the  growing  power  of 
the  Commons  enabled  them  to  carry  their  point.  It  was 
never  established  by  law,  it  was  never  formally  admitted 
by  the  other  House,  but  it  nevertheless  became  a  received 
maxim  of  the  Constitution,  that  the  House  of  Lords  was 
precluded  not  only  from  originating,  but  also  from  amending, 
money  Bills.  After  the  Revolution  this  power  was  tacitly 
extended  by  the  habit  of  enlarging  greatly  the  number  of 
Bills  which  were  considered  money  Bills.  Even  measures 
authorising  fees,  or  imposing  pecuniary  penalties,  or,  making 
provision  for  the  payment  of  salaries,  or  for  compensation 
for  abolished  offices,  have  been  treated  as  money  Bills,  and 
therefore  beyond  the  amending  power  of  the  Lords.2 

It  has  been,  however,  extremely  difficult  to  maintain  this 
position  consistently,  for  large  classes  of  measures  which 
have  no  financial  object  have  incidental,  and  sometimes  very 
remote,  financial  effects,  and  occasionally,  for  the  sake  of 
public  convenience,  the  House  of  Commons  has  slightly  relaxed 
its  rule,  and  allowed  amendments  to  pass  which  indirectly 
involved  salaries  or  fees.  Thus,  for  example,  the  operation 
of  a  Bill  relating  to  industrial  schools  has  been  prolonged  by 
an  amendment  in  the  Lords,  although  some  pecuniary  con- 

1  Hallam's  Const.  Hist.,  iii.  28-30  (Cabinet  edition). 

8  Hallam's  Const.  Hist.  iii.  30-33 ;  May's  Parliamentary  Practice  (ed.  1893), 
pp.  542-46.  Mr.  Pike,  in  his  Constitutional  History  of  the  House  of  Lords,  and 
Mr.  Macpherson  on  Hie  Baronage  and  the  Senate,  have  recently  traced  in  much 
detail  the  development  of  the  powers  of  the  House  of  Lords.  See,  too,  from 
opposite  points  of  view,  Mr.  Spalding's  House  of  Lords,  and  Sir  W.  Charley's 
Crusade  against  the  Constitution,  1895.  This  last  book  is  especially  useful 
as  a  collection  of  facts  and  speeches  relating  to  its  recent  history. 


336  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

sequences  would  follow  the  prolongation.  Sometimes  the 
whole  financial  clause  in  a  non-financial  Bill  has  been  rejected 
by  the  Lords,  this  being  considered  to  fall  within  the  class 
of  rejection,  and  not  of  amendment.  In  1831  a  standing  order 
was  made  directing  the  Speaker,  in  cases  where  an  amendment 
in  the  Lords  involved  some  pecuniary  penalty,  to  report  to 
the  House  whether  the  object  of  the  Lords  appeared  to  be 
'  to  impose,  vary,  or  take  away  any  pecuniary  charge  or 
burthen  on  the  subject,'  or  whether  they  only  intended  '  the 
punishment  of  offences,  and  the  House  shall  determine 
whether  it  may  be  expedient  in  such  particular  case  to  insist 
upon  the  exercise  of  their  privilege.'  In  1849  the  Commons 
agreed  that  they  would  not  insist  on  their  privilege  if  the 
object  of  a  pecuniary  penalty  was  merely  to  secure  the  execu- 
tion of  the  Act,  or  the  punishment  and  prevention  of  offences, 
or  when  fees  were  imposed  in  respect  to  a  benefit  taken  or 
service  rendered,  or  when  they  form  part  of  a  private  Bill  for 
a  local  or  personal  act.  In  1858  they  agreed,  in  the  case  of 
private  Bills,  to  accept '  any  clauses  sent  down  from  the  House 
of  Lords  which  refer  to  tolls  and  charges  for  services 
performed,  and  which  are  not  in  the  nature  of  a  tax.'  Some- 
times it  has  been  found  convenient  that  non-financial  Bills 
which  however  involve  salaries  or  fees  should  originate  in 
the  Lords.  In  these  cases  financial  provisoes  have  been  pre- 
pared, discussed,  and  voted  on  in  the  Lords,  but  withdrawn  at 
the  third  reading.  They  were  therefore  not  brought  before 
the  Commons  as  part  of  the  Bill,  but  they  were  printed  in  red 
ink  on  the  margin,  so  that  the  House  of  Commons  had  the 
suggestions  of  the  Lords  informally  before  it,  and  was,  of 
course,  at  liberty  to  treat  them  as  it  pleased.  By  these 
expedients  some  difficulties  have  been  overcome  and  some 
conveniences  attained  without  altering  the  received  rule  that 
the  Lords  have  no  power  of  originating  or  amending  money 
Bills.1 

One  power,  however,  they  seemed  still  to  possess.  No 
tax  could  be  legally  imposed  except  by  an  Act  of  Parliament, 
and  as  there  can  be  no  Act  of  Parliament  without  the  assent 

1  May's  Pari.  Practice,  pp.  544-49  ;  May's  Const.  Hist.  i.  482-89. 


REJECTION   OF   MONEY   BILLS  ^T>7 

of  the  Lords,  the  Upper  House  had  at  least  the  power  of 
withholding  that  assent,  and  thus  rejecting  the  Bill.  No- 
thing in  law,  nothing  in  history,  and,  it  may  be  added, 
nothing  in  reason,  denied  them  this  power,  and  for  some 
time  after  the  right  of  amendment  had  vanished  it  was  fully 
acknowledged.  But  this  power  also  went  the  way  of  the 
royal  veto.  The  doctrine  that  taxation  was  essentially  a 
matter  for  the  Commons  alone  grew  and  strengthened, 
especially  during  the  controversies  that  arose  out  of  the 
American  revolution.  '  Taxation,'  Chatham  once  said,  '  is 
no  part  of  the  governing  or  legislative  power.  The  taxes  are 
a  voluntary  gift  and  grant  of  the  Commons  alone.  In  legisla- 
tion the  three  estates  of  the  realm  are  alike  concerned ;  but 
the  concurrence  of  the  peers  and  Crown  to  a  tax  is  only 
necessary  to  clothe  it  with  the  form  of  law.  The  gift  and 
grant  is  of  the  Commons  alone.'  This  doctrine  is  very  far 
from  being  beyond  controversy,  but  it  had  a  popular  sound, 
and  it  was  widely  accepted.  The  House  of  Lords,  shrinking 
from  conflicts  of  privilege,  and  perhaps  content  with  the 
indirect  influence  which  its  members  exercised  in  the 
Commons,  very  rarely  even  discussed  measures  which  were 
exclusively  or  mainly  financial,  though  it  frequently  rejected 
or  postponed  measures  incidentally  affecting  taxation. 

The  last  great  conflict  on  this  subject  was  in  1860,  when 
Mr.  Gladstone,  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  in  the  Govern- 
ment of  Lord  Palmerston,  proposed  the  abolition  of  the  paper 
duties.  The  repealing  measure  was  introduced  in  the  usual 
way  as  a  separate  Bill,  but  it  formed  part  of  a  large  and  com- 
plicated Budget  involving  extensive  remissions  of  indirect 
taxation,  the  imposition  of  a  number  of  small  taxes,  the  re- 
imposition  of  the  income  tax — which  was  intended  to  have 
expired  in  this  year — its  increase  from  del.  to  lOd.  in  the  pound, 
and  a  provision  for  bringing  three-fourths  of  this  tax,  instead 
of  half  only,  into  the  Exchequer  within  the  financial  year. 
The  paper  duty,  which  it  was  determined  to  repeal,  was 
estimated  at  1,200,000*.  or  1,300,000/.' 

Several  things  contributed  to  make  so  great  a  sacrifice  of 

1  See  Sir  Stafford  Xorthcote's  Twenty  Years  of  Financial  Policy,  pp.  351-50. 
VOL.  I.  Z 

I 


338  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

ordinary  revenue  at  this  time  seem  of  doubtful  expediency. 
A  commercial  treaty  with  France  had  just  been  concluded, 
and   it   would   involve   a    great    lowering   of    duties.     The 
political  relations  with  France  were  also  not  unclouded,  and 
the  prevalent  feeling  of  distrust  had   shown  itself   in   the 
expenditure  of  a  very  large  sum  in  fortifying  our  dockyards. 
A  war  with  China  was  raging,  and   it  had  assumed  more 
formidable  dimensions  during  the  period  between  the  intro- 
duction of  the  Budget  and  its  completion  in  the  Commons. 
The  renewal  and  the  high  and  increasing  rate  of  the  income 
tax  fell  also  heavily  on  large  classes.     The  feeling  of  the 
House  of  Commons  was  very  significantly  shown  by  diminish- 
ing majorities.     The   second  reading  of  the   repeal   of   the 
paper  duties  was  carried  by  a  majority  of  fifty-three.     On 
the  third  reading  the  Government  majority  had  sunk  to  nine. 
When  a  powerful  and   popular  Government  could  only; 
command  such  a  majority  on  the  third  reading  of  a  great 
contested  measure,  there  could  be  little  doubt  that  the  real 
opinion  of   the   House   of   Commons   was   hostile   to   that 
measure.     It  is  probable  that  most  members  of  the  Cabinet 
would  have  gladly  postponed  t^  another  year  the  repeal  of 
the  paper  duties.     But  it  is  not  easy  for  a  Government  to 
recede  from  a  position  which  it  has  formally  adopted ;  and 
it  was  impossible  for  Lord  Palmerston  to  do  so  without  break- 
ing up  his  Government  when  so  important  a  colleague  as 
Mr.  Gladstone  was  determined  at  all  hazards  to  carry  the 
measure.     The  real  opinions  of  Lord  Palmerston  are  clearly 
disclosed   in  an   extract  which  has  been  published  from  a 
letter   written   by   him  to  the  Queen,  announcing  to  Her 
Majesty   the  extremely  small  majority  by  which  the   Bill 
had  passed  its  third  reading  in  the  Commons.     '  This,'  he 
writes,   '  may  probably  encourage  the  House   of  Lords  to 
throw  out  the  Bill  when  it  comes  to  their  House,  and  Vis- 
count Palmerston  is  bound  in  duty  to  say  that,  if  they  do 
so,  they  will  perforin  a  good  public  service.     Circumstances 
have  greatly  changed  since  the  measure  was  agreed  to  by 
the  Cabinet,  and  although  it  would  undoubtedly  have  been 
difficult  for  the  Government  to  have  given  up  the  Bill,  yet,  if 


*    THE   PAPER  DUTIES  339 

Parliament  were  to  reject  it,  the  Government  might  well 
submit  to  so  welcome  a  defeat.' ' 

The  House  of  Lords  acted  as  Lord  Palmerston  antici- 
pated and  evidently  desired.  While  the  other  Bills  relating 
to  finance  were  accepted  without  question,  the  Bill  repealing 
the  paper  duties  was  thrown  out  by  a  majority  of  no  less 
than  eighty-nine. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  in  a  speech  of  extraordinary  eloquence, 
which  was  eminently  calculated,  as  it  was  manifestly 
intended,  to  inflame  and  envenom  the  difference  between 
the  Houses,  denounced  this  proceeding  as  '  the  most  gigan- 
tic and  the  most  dangerous  innovation  that  has  been 
attempted  in  our  times,'  and  a  large  part  of  the  Liberal 
party,  both  in  the  House  and  in  the  country,  were  ready  to 
support  him  in  a  violent  collision  with  the  Lords.  Lord 
Palmerston,  however,  in  a  very  difficult  position,  conducted 
the  controversy  with  a  skill,  tact,  and  moderation  that  could 
not  be  surpassed,  and  by  his  eminently  patriotic  conduct  a 
great  danger  was  averted.  A  Commission  was  appointed  to 
examine  precedents,  and,  under  the  influence  of  Lord  Pal- 
merston, the  House  of  Commons  contented  itself  with 
carrying  three  resolutions.  The  first  asserted  '  that  the 
right  of  granting  aids  and  supplies  to  the  Crown  is  in  the 
Commons  alone.'  The  second,  while  acknowledging  that 
the  Lords  had  sometimes  exercised  the  power  of  rejecting 
Bills  relating  to  taxation,  stated  that  this  power  was  justly 
regarded  by  the  Commons  with  peculiar  jealousy,  as  affecting 
their  right  to  grant  supplies  ;  and  the  third  stated  '  that,  to 
guard  for  the  future  against  an  undue  exercise  of  that  power 
by  the  Lords,  and  to  secure  to  the  Commons  their  rightful 
control  over  taxation  and  Supply,  this  House  has  in  its  own 
hands  the  power  so  to  impose  and  remit  taxes,  and  to  frame 
Bills  of  Supply,  that  the  right  of  the  Commons  as  to  the 
matter,  manner,  measure,  and  time  may  1hj  maintained 
inviolate.' 

These  resolutions  were  carried  unanimously,  though  not 
without    much    criticism    and   after  a  long  and   instructive 

1  Martin's  Life  of  tJie  Prince  Consort,  v.  100. 

/.  2 


340  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

debate.  It  was  asserted  on  the  one  side,  and  not  denied 
on  the  other,  that  the  House  of  Lords  had  acted  in  perfect 
accordance  with  the  law  of  the  land.  In  the  conferences  that 
had  taken  place  between  the  two  Houses  after  the  Bestora- 
tion,  when  the  right  of  amending  money  Bills  was  denied  to 
the  Lords,  the  Managers,  on  the  part  of  the  Commons,  for- 
mally and  expressly  admitted  the  right  of  the  Upper  House 
to  reject  them.  This  right,  it  was  said,  was  a  settled  prin- 
ciple of  the  Constitution,  and  it  had  never  been  withdrawn, 
surrendered,  or  denied.  The  Constitution,  by  making  the 
assent  of  the  House  of  Lords  essential  to  the  validity  of  a 
tax,  clearly  implied  that  the  House  of  Lords  had  the  right 
of  withholding  that  assent.  Blackstone,  while  enumerating 
in  emphatic  terms  its  disabilities  in  matters  of  finance, 
described  its  right  of  rejecting  money  Bills  as  absolutely 
incontestable.1  Nor  was  there  on  this  point  any  real 
difference  of  opinion  among  writers  on  the  Constitution.2 
'  Nothing,'  said  Lord  Lyndhurst  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
'  can  be  found  in  the  Parliamentary  Journals,  or  in  any 
history  of  parliamentary  proceedings,  to  show  that  our  right 
to  reject  money  Bills  has  been  questioned.'  The  Commission 
which  had  just  been  appointed  to  examine  precedents  had 
discovered  between  1714  and  1860  about  thirty-six  cases  of 
Bills  repealing  duties  or  imposts  of  some  kind,  and  a  much 
greater  number  of  Bills  imposing  charges,  which  had  passed 
through  the  Commons,  and  which  had  failed  in  the  Lords. 
In  all  or  nearly  all  these  cases  the  action  of  the  House  of 
Lords  was  unchallenged. 

In  the  face  of  such  facts  it  was  surely  absurd  to  argue 
that  the  House  of  Lords  was  not  within  its  rights  in  throw- 
ing out  the  paper  duties.     And  if  it  had  a  right  to  do  so,  it 

1  '  It  would  be  extremely  dangerous  to  give  the  Lords  any  power  of  framing 
new  taxes  for  the  subject.  It  is  sufficient  that  they  have  a  power  of  rejecting 
if  they  think  the  Commons  too  lavish  or  improvident  in  their  grants.  But  so 
reasonably  jealous  are  the  Commons  of  this  valuable  privilege,  that  herein  they 
will  not  suffer  the  other  House  to  exert  any  power  but  that  of  rejecting.  They 
will  not  permit  the  least  alteration  or  amendment  to  be  made  by  the  Lords  ' 
(Blackstone,  Book  i.  chapter  ii.). 

'-'  See  Hallam's  History  of  England,  iii.  31  ;  May's  Parliamentary 
Practice,  p.  550  (ed.  1893). 


THE   PAPER  DUTIES  341 

was  not  difficult  to  defend  the  expediency  of  its  act.  This 
great  sacrifice  of  permanent  revenue  had  been  urged  on 
political  rather  than  financial  grounds.  It  had  been  intro- 
duced at  a  time  when  both  the  political  and  the  financial 
prospects  were  singularly  overclouded,  and  since  its  first 
introduction  the  circumstances  of  the  country  had  greatly 
changed,  and  the  inexpediency  of  the  measure  had  greatly 
increased.  The  small  and  steadily  declining  majorities  in  the 
House  of  Commons  clearly  showed  that,  without  strong  party 
and  ministerial  pressure,  it  could  not  have  been  carried. 

In  reply  to  these  arguments  it  was  contended  that,  though 
the  House  of  Lords  had  acted  within  its  technical  rights,  its 
conduct  in  throwing  out  an  important  Bill  relating  to  the 
ways  and  means  of  the  year  was  contrary  to  '  constitutional 
usage,'  and  inconsistent  with  the  principle  the  Commons  had 
frequently  asserted,  that  '  all  aids  and  supplies  granted  to 
Her  Majesty  in  Parliament  are  the  sole  and  entire  gifts  of 
the  Commons.'  By  whose  authority  or  action,  it  was  asked, 
would  the  paper  duties  be  collected  in  the  ensuing  year? 
Would  it  not  be  solely  by  that  of  the  House  of  Lords  ?  If 
the  Commons  had  combined  in  a  single  measure  the  increase 
of  the  income  tax  and  the  repeal  of  the  paper  duties,  it 
would  have  been  confessedly  beyond  the  power  of  the 
Lords  to  amend  the  Bill  by  accepting  one  part  of  it  and 
rejecting  the  other.  Was  the  course  they  had  actually 
pursued  essentially  different  from  this?  To  reject  an  im- 
portant money  Bill,  and  thereby  disturb  the  balance  of  the 
financial  arrangements  of  the  year,  was  in  reality  a  greater 
infringement  of  the  sole  competence  of  the  House  of 
Commons  in  matters  of  finance  than  to  introduce  into  a 
money  Bill  some  trifling  amendment.  The  precedents  that 
had  been  adduced  were  jealously  scrutinised,  and  pronounced 
to  be  inapplicable.  The  Bills  that  had  been  rejected  had 
been  political  Bills,  discussed  and  rejected  on  political,  and 
not  on  financial,  grounds,  and  they  were  Bills  by  which 
finance  was  only  slightly,  incidentally,  and  remotely  affected. 
Most  of  them  were  measures  of  protection,  encouraging 
different  forms  of  industry  by  duties  or  bounties.     Others 


342  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

were  measures  imposing  or  remitting  penalties,  creating  or 
abolishing  salaried  offices.  The  rejection  of  such  Bills  was  a 
very  different  thing  from  an  attempt  to  recast  or  materially 
modify  the  Budget  of  the  year.  For  two  hundred  years,  it 
was  said,  the  House  of  Lords  had  never  taken  such  a  step, 
never  rejected  on  purely  financial  grounds  a  Bill  imposing 
or  remitting  taxation.  Great  commercial  interests  would  be 
affected  by  its  action,  and  still  more  by  the  precedent  it 
established,  for  men  of  business  had  hitherto  always  assumed 
that  they  might  take  their  measures  and  base  their  cal- 
culations on  the  Budget  as  soon  as  it  had  passed  the 
Commons. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  weight  of  argument,  the 
weight  of  power  was  on  the  side  of  the  Commons.  As  a 
matter  of  reason,  indeed,  resolutions  had  been  adopted  and 
precedents  formed  which  reduced  the  whole  question  at  issue 
to  hopeless  confusion.  It  was  absurd  to  assert,  as  the 
Commons  had  repeatedly  done,  that  money  grants  were 
their  '  sole  and  entire  gift,'  when  they  were  unable  to  grant 
a  farthing  without  the  assent  of  the  Lords ;  and  the  power 
of  rejection  and  the  power  of  amendment  stood  so  much  on 
the  same  ground,  and  were  in  some  cases  so  indissolubly 
connected,  that  it  was  very  difficult  to  accept  the  one  and 
to  deny  the  other.  By  a  tacit  understanding,  fully  acquiesced 
in,  though  unestablished  by  law,  the  House  of  Lords  had  no 
power  of  amending  money  Bills,  while  its  power  of  rejecting 
them  had  been  established  by  a  long  chain  of  precedents, 
formally  acknowledged  by  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
admitted  as  unquestionable  by  every  serious  writer  on  the 
Constitution.  Yet  it  was  very  evident  that  the  one  power 
might  be  so  used  as  to  be  practically  equivalent  to  the  other. 
The  Commons,  however,  in  the  year  after  this  dispute, 
adopted  a  method  which  effectually  prevented  the  Lords 
from  exercising  any  revising  power  in  finance.  The}^  com- 
bined the  repeal  of  the  paper  duties  with  all  the  other  por- 
tions of  the  Budget  in  a  single  Bill,  and  the  Lords  had,  there- 
fore, no  power  of  rejecting  one  part  unless  they  took  the 
responsibility  of  rejecting   the   whole.       This   method   has 


TRIUMPH   OF   THE   COMMONS  343 

since  become  the  usual  one.  So  completely  has  the  sole 
competence  of  the  House  of  Commons  been  recognised,  that 
it  has  become  the  custom  to  levy  new  duties  and  increased 
duties  from  the  time  they  had  been  agreed  to  by  the  House 
of  Commons,  without  waiting  for  the  assent  of  the  Lords 
and  of  the  Crown,  which  alone  could  give  them  the  force  of 
law. 

Much  of  the  jealousy  of  the  interference  of  the  Lords 
with  financial  matters  which  was  displayed  at  the  time  of 
the  Kestoration  was  due  to  the  fact  that  this  body  was  then 
greatly  under  the  influence  of  the  Crown,  and  that  the  chief 
constitutional  conflicts  of  that  period  lay  between  the  power 
of  the  Commons  and  the  power  of  the  Crown.  A  still  more 
important  consideration  was  the  belief  that  a  tax  is  the  free 
gift  of  the  people,  and  that  it  ought,  therefore,  to  be  under 
the  sole  control  of  the  representatives  of  those  who  give  it. 
Such  a  control  was  once  considered  a  guarantee  that  no  one 
could  be  taxed  unduly,  unrighteously,  or  against  his  will. 
The  old  principle  of  connecting  indissolubly  taxation  and 
representation  has  probably  never  been  more  loudly  professed 
than  in  the  present  day ;  but  this  is  only  one  of  the  many 
instances  in  which  men  cheat  themselves  by  forms  and 
phrases,  while  the  underlying  meaning  has  almost  wholly 
passed  away.  The  members  of  the  House  of  Lords  are 
owners  of  a  great  proportion  of  the  largest  properties 
in  Great  Britain,  yet  they  have  no  part  in  enacting  the 
imperial  taxes  they  pay.  Their  House  is  excluded  from  all 
participation  in  finance,  and  they  have  no  voice  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  At  the  same  time,  the  whole  drift  of 
democratic  government  is  to  diminish  or  to  destroy  the 
control  which  property  in  England  once  had  over  taxation. 
As  I  have  already  observed,  the  true  meaning  and  justifica- 
cation  of  the  special  political  powers  vested  in  large  tax- 
payers was,  that  those  who  chiefly  pay  should  chiefly  control ; 
that  the  kinds  of  property  which  contribute  most  to  support 
government  should  have  most  weight  in  regulating  it  ;  that 
it  is  one  of  the  first  duties  of  a  legislator  to  provide  that 
one  class  should  not  have  the  power  of  voting  the   taxes, 


344  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

while  another  class  were  obliged  to  pay  them.  '  It  is-  plain 
that  this  fundamental  element  in  the  British  Constitution  is 
being  rapidly  destroyed.  One  of  the  most  popular  and 
growing  ideas  in  English  politics  is,  that  by  giving  an  over- 
whelming voting  power  to  the  poorer  classes  they  may 
be  able  to  attain  a  high  level  of  wellbeing,  by  compel- 
ling the  propertied  classes  to  pay  more  and  more  for  their 
benefit. 

A  broad  distinction  must  be  drawn  between  the  maxim 
that  the  Commons  alone  'should  have  the  right  to  originate 
taxes,  and  the  maxim  that  the  Upper  House  should  have  no 
power  either  of  amending  or  rejecting  its  financial  legislation. 
The  former  right  is  recognised,  after  the  English  model,  in 
most  of  the  constitutions  of  free  nations,  though  there  are 
several  exceptions.  The  most  remarkable  are  Austria, 
Prussia,  the  German  Empire,  and  the  Swiss  Federation,  in 
all  of  which  a  financial-  measure  may  be  introduced  equally 
either  in  the  Upper  or  the  Lower  House.1  In  the  United 
States  the  House  of  Representatives  maintains  the  sole 
right  of  originating  taxes  ;  but  in  the  State  legislatures  a 
different  principle  prevails,  and  it  is  said  that  there  are 
twenty-one  States  in  which  financial  measures  may  be 
brought  forward  in  either  House.2  In  a  few  continental 
constitutions  the  Upper  Chamber  has  the  power  of  rejecting, 
but  not  of  amending,  money  Bills,3  but  in  most  constitutions 
it  is  granted  both  powers ;  and  this  is  also  the  system  in  the 
United  States. 

There  is  a  great  and  manifest  danger  in  placing  the  most 
important  of  all  branches  of  legislation  in  the  uncontrolled 
power  of  one  House.  It  leaves  the  constitution  absolutely 
unbalanced  in  the  department  in  which  beyond  all  others  there 
is  most  danger,  and  where  balance  and  restriction  are  most 
required  ;  and  it  is,  I  think,  much  to  be  desired  that,  if  the 
Upper  House  should  ever  be  so  remodelled  as  to  carry  with  it 
increased  weight  in  the  country,  it  should  be  entrusted  with 

1  Morizot-Thibault,  Des  Droits  dcsCliambrcs  Haute s  en  matter c  dc  Finances, 
pp.  64,  69,  73,  94. 

-  Ibid.  p.  82.  :!  Ibid.  p.  134. 


FINANCIAL   CONTROL  345 

the  same  powers  of  control  and  revision  in  matters  of  finance 
that  are  'possessed  by  the  American  Senate.  The  evils, 
however,  that  might  in  this  department  be  feared  in  England 
from  the  omnipotence  of  the  House  of  Commons  have  been 
greatly ,  mitigated  by  two  facts.  The  one  is,  that  a  very 
large  proportion  of  the  taxes  of  the  country  are  permanent 
taxes,  and  are  therefore  not  the  subjects  of  annual  debates. 
The  other  is  the  rule  of  the  House  of  Commons,  which  I 
have  mentioned  in  a  former  chapter,  that  no  petition,  and 
no  motion  for  a  grant  or  charge  Upon  the  public  revenue, 
can  be  received  unless  it  is  recommended  by  the  ministers 
of  the  Crown.  Though  this  rule,  giving  the  responsible 
ministers  the  sole  right  of  proposing  taxation,  rests  upon  no 
law,  but  simply  on  a  standing  order  of  1706,  it  is  no  exag- 
geration to  say  that  it  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  parts  of 
the  British  Constitution.  In  the  great  changes  that  have 
taken  place  in  the  disposition  and  balance  of  powers,  many 
of  the  old  constitutional  checks  have  become  obsolete, 
inoperative,  or  useless ;  but  the  whole  tendency  of  modern 
politics  has  only  increased  the  importance  of  the  provision 
which  places  the  initiation  in  matters  of  finance  exclusively 
in  Government  hands.  In  the  present  state  of  Parliaments, 
and  with  the  motives  that  at  present  govern  English  public 
life,  it  is  difficult  to  exaggerate  either  the  corruption  or  the 
extravagance  that  might  arise  if  every  member  were  at  liberty 
to  ingratiate  himself  with  particular  classes  of  interests  by 
proposing  money  grants  in  their  favour. 

The  exclusion,  however,  of  the  House  of  Lords  from  every 
form  of  financial  control  naturally  deprived  it  of  its  chief 
power  in  the  State  ;  and  it  is  still  further  weakened  by  the- 
fact  that  the  creation  and  overthrow  of  ministries  rest  entirely 
with  the  other  House.  In  the  theory  of  the  Constitution,  the 
sovereign  chooses  the  head  of  the  Government,  but,  except 
in  the  very  rare  cases  of  nearly  balanced  claims,  the  sovereign 
has  no  choice.  The  statesman  whom  the  dominant  party 
in  the  House  of  Commons  follow  as  their  leader  is  irre- 
sistibly designated,  and  if  he  is  overthrown  it  must  be  by 
the  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons.     Since  the  resignation 


346  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  Lord  Grey  in  May,  1832,  no  ministry  has  resigned  in 
consequence  of  a  hostile  vote  of  the  Lords. 

Some  other  changes  may  be  noticed  in  the  position  of 
the  House.  In  addition  to  its  legislative  functions,  it  is  the 
supreme  law  court  of  the  country,  and  this  very  important 
privilege  has  been  the  subject  of  extraordinary  abuses.  It  is 
not  here  necessary  to  enter  at  any  length  into  the  curious 
and  intricate  history  of  this  power.  It  seems  to  have  grown 
out  of  the  right  the  peers  once  possessed,  as  counsellors  of  the 
King,  to  receive  petitions  for  the  redress  of  all  abuses  ;  but  it 
was  fully  organised  in  successive  stages,  and  in  spite  of  much 
opposition  from  the  House  of  Commons,  in  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries.  The  right  of  hearing  judicial 
appeals  extended  to  all  the  peers,  even  to  those  who  were 
perfectly  unversed  in  matters  of  law ;  and  for  considerable 
periods  after  the  Revolution,  and  especially  in  the  reigns  of 
George  II.  and  George  III.,  the  Chancellor  sat  alone  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  sometimes  to  hear  appeals  from  himself, 
though  two  lay  peers  had  to  be  formally  present  in  order  to 
make  the  requisite  quorum.  Somers,  Hardwicke,  Thurlow, 
Mansfield,  and  Eldon  have  all  heard  appeals  in  this  fashion.1 
After  this  time  lawyers  multiplied  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
and  the  appellate  jurisdiction  was  placed  by  custom  exclu- 
sively in  their  hands  ;  though  in  the  case  of  O'Connell,  when 
party  passions  were  strongly  aroused,  there  was  for  a  short 
time  some  danger  that  the  lay  lords  would  insist  on  their 
right  of  intervening.  The  efficiency  of  the  highest  Court 
was  entirely  a  matter  of  chance.  The  Chancellor  was 
usually  a  good  lawyer,  but  it  has  sometimes  happened  that 
a  considerable  portion  of  the  remainder  of  the  tribunal 
consisted  of  lawyers  who,  though  they  had  been  in  their  day 
very  eminent,  were  now  suffering  from  all  the  debility  of 
extreme  old  age,  and  appeals  were  notoriously  from  the  more 
competent  tribunal  to  the  less  competent  one. 

It  seems  strange  that  this  state  of  things  should  have 
been  so  long  tolerated ;  but,  in  truth,  the  English  people, 
though  they  have  always  been  extremely  tenacious  of  their 

1  May's  Const.  Hist.  i.  247. 


JUDICIAL   FUNCTIONS  347 

right  of  making  their  own  laws,  have  usually  been  singularly 
patient  of  abuses  in  administering  them.  They  bore  during 
long  generations  ruinous  delays  of  justice  which  were 
elaborately  calculated  to  prolong  litigation  through  periods 
often  exceeding  the  natural  duration  of  a  lifetime  ;  enormous 
multiplications  of  costly  and  useless  archaic  forms,  intended 
mainly  to  swell  the  gains  of  one  grasping  profession.  They 
have  suffered  judges  whose  faculties  were  notoriously  dimmed 
by  the  infirmities  of  extreme  old  age  to  preside  over  trials 
on  which  lives,  fortunes,  and  reputations  depended  ;  and  even 
now  this  profession,  which,  beyond  almost  any  other,  requires 
the  full  clearness,  concentration,  and  energy  of  a  trained 
intellect,  is  exempt  from  the  age  limit  which  is  so  severely 
imposed  on  other  classes  of  Civil  Servants.  It  is  quite  in 
accordance  with  this  spirit  that  they  should  have  long  en- 
dured, with  scarcely  a  murmur,  such  an  appellate  jurisdic- 
tion as  I  have  described.  English  writers  often  dwell,  with 
just  pride,  on  the  contrast  between  the  political  freedom 
enjoyed  in  Great  Britain  and  the  political  servitude  that 
existed  in  France  in  the  eighteenth  century.  If  they  com- 
pared, in  their  judicial  aspects,  the  House  of  Lords  of  that 
period  with  the  Parliament  of  Paris,  the  comparison  would 
be  much  less  flattering  to  the  national  pride. 

The  extremely  unsatisfactory  condition  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  considered  as  the  supreme  tribunal  of  the  country, 
was  acutely  felt  in  the  present  century,  and  the  opinion 
grew  in  ministerial  circles  that  the  best  way  of  strengthening 
it  was  by  introducing  into  the  House  a  certain  number  of 
lawyers  as  life  peers.  The  Cabinet  of  Lord  Liverpool  at  one 
time  resolved  upon  this  step,  but  Lord  Liverpool  himself 
changed  his  mind,  and  it  was  abandoned.  In  1851,  Lord 
John  Russell  offered  a  life  peerage  to  an  eminent  judge,  but 
it  was  declined ; l  but  in  1856  the  Government  of  Lord 
Palmerston  took  the  startling  step  of  creating  by  royal  pre- 
rogative Baron  Parke  a  life  peer,  under  the  title  of  Lord 
Wensleydale.     The    fact  that  he  might  just  as  well  have 

1  See   a   speech   of   Lord  Granville  in  the  debate  on  Lord  Wensleydale'a 
peerage.  February  7.  1S.">I>. 


348  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

been  made  an  hereditary  peer,  as  he  was  considerably  past 
middle  life,  and  had  no  living  son,  gave  an  unmistakable 
significance  to  the  creation. 

As  is  well  known,  the  attempt  was  successfully  resisted 
by  the  House  of  Lords.  The  opposition  was  led  with 
masterly  ability  by  Lord  Lyndhurst,  and,  with  the  exception 
of  a  not  very  powerful  Chancellor,  it  was  supported  by  all 
the  law  lords  in  the  House.  It  was  acknowledged,  indeed, 
that  such  peerages  had  been  made  in  remote  periods  of 
English  history,  and  that  Coke,  and  Blackstone  following 
Coke,  had  asserted  their  legality  ;  but  the  supporters  of  the 
measure  were  compelled  to  admit  that  for  the  space  of  400 
years  no  commoner  had  been  introduced  into  the  House  of 
Lords  by  such  a  patent  as  that  of  Lord  Wensleydale.  There 
had,  it  is  true,  been  a  few  peerages  for  life  conferred  upon 
women.  It  was  a  dignity  which  seems  to  have  been  specially 
selected  for  the  mistress  of  the  King,  and  Charles  II.,  James 
II.,  George  I.,  and  George  II.,  had  in  this  way  raised  their 
mistresses  to  the  peerage.  Since  the  creation  of  the  Countess 
of  Yarmouth  by  George  II.,  however,  there  had  been  no 
peerage  of  this  kind  ;  and  a  life  peerage  conferred  on  a 
woman  introduced  no  one  into  the  House  of  Lords.  The  only 
other  attempt  to  establish  a  modern  precedent  was  derived 
from  the  fact  that  the  sovereign  possessed,  and  exercised, 
the  power  of  conferring  peerages  on  childless  men,  with  re- 
mainders to  relations  to  whom  they  could  not,  without  special 
permission,  have  descended.  It  was  obvious,  however,  that 
this  formed  no  real  precedent,  for  it  was  Nature,  and  not 
patent,  that  prevented  these  peers  from  transmitting  their 
peerages  in  the  usual  way. 

The  legal  maxim,  Nullum  tempus  occur  rit  regi,  was  quoted 
in  defence  of  life  peerages  ;  but  in  spite  of  it  the  lawyers  con- 
tended, as  it  seems  to  me  with  good  reason,  that  a  preroga- 
tive which  had  been  for  400  years  unexercised,  and  which  was 
exercised  only  at  a  time  when  the  position  of  the  sovereign 
and  the  aristocracy  in  the  Constitution  was  utterly  different 
from  what  it  now  is — at  a  time  when  it  was  not  unusual  to 
summon  to  the  House  of  Lords  commoners  who  were  married 


LIFE   PEERAGES  349 

to  peeresses  to  represent  their  wives — at  a  tinie  when  the 
House  of  Lords  was  able,  of  its  own  authority,  to  select  a 
Regent  for  the  kingdom,  ought  not  to  be  revived  by  a  mere 
'    act  of  power. 

No  reasonable  man,  indeed,  will  now  regard  the  direct 
influence  of  the  sovereign  as  a  danger  to  English  liberty ; 
but  revivals  of  long-dormant  royal  prerogatives  should  be 
carefully  watched,  for  they  are  certain  to  pass  into  the  hands 
of  the  Cabinet  ministers.  It  was  a  clear  and  well-established 
prerogative  of  the  Crown  to  remodel  the  representation  by 
summoning  unrepresented  places  to  send  members  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  or  by  discontinuing  to  summon  places 
which  had  hitherto  been  represented.  This  prerogative  had 
been  exercised  at  a  much  later  period  than  that  on  which 
the  precedents  for  Lord  Wensleydale's  creation  were  based, 
and  it  had  even  been  heard  of  in  our  own  century.  In  the 
course  of  the  debates  on  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  an  Irish 
Solicitor-General  had  suggested  that  the  obstruction  of  the 
House  of  Lords  might  be  overcome  by  simply  using  the 
royal  prerogative  of  creating  or  disenfranchising  constitu- 
encies in  accordance  with  the  provisions  of  the  Bill ;  and 
O'Connell  contended  that  it  was  in  the  full  legal  power 
of  the  sovereign  to  annul  the  Irish  'Union,  without  the 
intervention  of  either  Lords  or  Commons,  by  summoning 
Irish  constituencies  to  send  their  representatives  to  Dublin. 
No  one  can  for  a  moment  imagine  that  a  modern  House 
of  Commons  would  tolerate  such  an  exercise  of  the  pre- 
rogative, however  well  supported  by  historical  and  legal 
authority  ;  nor  would  any  Government  venture  to  attempt  it. 
The  prerogative  of  creating  life  peers  had  not  been  resorted 
to  by  the  ministers  who  took  the  strongest  measures  to  over- 
come the  resistance  or  to  increase  the  numbers  of  the  Upper 
House.  Harley  had  not  thought  of  it  when  he  made  twelve 
peers  to  carry  the  Peace  of  Utrecht  ;  or  Pitt  when,  by  lavish 
creations,  he  carried  the  Irish  Union  ;  or  Grey  when  he 
obtained  the  King's  assent  to  the  creation  of  a  sufficient 
number  of  peers  to  carry  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832.  On  the 
whole,  therefore,  the  House  of  Lords  seems  to  me  to  have 


350  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

been  thoroughly  justified  in  maintaining  that  the  sovereign 
could  not,  by  a  patent  of  life  peerage,  introduce  new  members 
into  the  House  of  Lords.  Another  patent  was  accordingly 
made  out,  and  Lord  Wensleydale  entered  the  House  on  the 
same  terms  as  his  brother-peers. 

The  conduct  of  the  House  of  Lords  on  this  occasion  has 
been  much  blamed  by  some  considerable  authorities.  Free- 
man has  denounced  it  with  extreme  violence,  as  a  departure 
from  the  precedents  of  early  English  history,1  and  Bagehot, 
with  much  more  reason,  has  lamented  that  the  House 
neglected  a  great  opportunity  of  invigorating  its  constitution 
by  making  possible  a  gradual  infusion  of  life  peers.2  Power- 
ful, however,  as  are  the  arguments  in  favour  of  life  peerages,  I 
do  not  think  that  they  ought  to  have  been  created  by  a  simple 
revival  of  a  long-dormant  prerogative,  without  statutory 
authority  or  limitation.  An  attempt  was  made  by  Lord 
John  Russell,  in  1869,  to  introduce  life  peers  under  the 
authority  of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  limiting  the  number  to 
, twenty-eight,  and  providing  that  not  more  than  four  should 
be  made  in  one  year.  It  was  defeated  on  its  third  reading ;  and 
a  very  similar  but  rather  more  extensive  measure,  which  was 
introduced  by  Lord  Salisbury  in  1888,  was  abandoned  on 
account  of  the  hostility  of  Mr.  Gladstone. 

The  only  object  of  the  Government  at  the  time  of  the 
Wensleydale  peerage  seems  to  have  been  to  strengthen  the 
appellate  jurisdiction  by  bringing  into  the  House  competent 
lawyers  whose  fortunes  were  perhaps  deemed  inadequate  for 
an  hereditary  peerage,  and  who  would  not  add  to  the  very 
considerable  number  of  noble  houses  with  a  legal  origin. 
The  state  of  the  appellate  jurisdiction  continued  for  several 
years  to  be  a  matter  of  constant  complaint,  and  it  gave  rise 
to  much  discussion  and  to  some  abortive  measures.  At  length, 
in  1873,  Lord  Selborne,  as  the  Chancellor  of  a  Liberal 
Government,  succeeded  in  carrying  a  Bill  transferring  all 
English  appeals  from  the  House  of  Lords  to  a  new  tribunal. 
Irish  and  Scotch  appeals  were  left  to  be  dealt  with  m  a 

1  Freeman's  Historical  Essays,  4th  series,  pp.  473-75. 
-  On  the  Constitution. 


THE   APPELLATE   JURISDICTION  35  I 

separate  Bill  in  the  ensuing  year,  and  the  measure  that  was 
actually  carried  was  only  to  come  into  force  in  the  November 
of  1874.  Before  that  date  an  election  and  a  change  of 
government  took  place,  and  it  devolved  upon  Lord  Cairns,  as 
the  Conservative  Chancellor,  to  carry  out  the  new  policy. 

He  had  in  the  preceding  year  supported,  though  not 
without  some  reluctance,  the  measure  of  Lord  Selborne,  and 
his  first  intention  on  arriving  at  power  was  to  complete  it  on 
the  same  lines  by  transferring  Scotch  and  Irish  appeals  to 
the  new  tribunal.  It  soon,  however,  appeared  that  a  strong 
hostile  feeling  had  grown  up  in  the  country.  In  England 
it  was  found  to  be  an  unpopular  thing  to  deprive  the  House 
of  Lords  of  its  ancient  jurisdiction  ;  while  Scotland  and 
Ireland  protested  against  the  transfer  of  their  appeals  to  any 
less  dignified  body  than  a  branch  of  the  Imperial  Legislature. 
It  was  observed  that  a  special  clause  of  the  Scotch  Act  of 
Union  had  provided  that  there  should  be  no  right  of  appeal 
from  a  Scotch  to  an  English  court.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  was  generally  felt  that  it  would  be  inexpedient  to  have 
different  courts  of  appeal  for  the  different  parts  of  the  British 
Isles.  In  the  face  of  this  strong  demonstration  of  opinion 
Lord  Cairns  changed  his  policy.  The  operation  of  Lord 
Selborne' s  Bill  was  for  a  short  time  postponed,  and  the 
Government  resolved  to  revert  in  form,  though  not  in 
substance,  to  the  old  system.  It  was  enacted  that  all  appeals 
from  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  should  be  heard  in  the  House 
of  Lords  by  a  court  consisting  of  those  members  of  the 
House  who>  had  held  high  judicial  offices  in  the  State,  with 
the  addition  of  two,  and  ultimately  of  four,  eminent  lawyers, 
who  were  to  be  life  peers,  created  under  the  statute,  and 
receiving  large  salaries.  The  presence  of  three  members 
was  made  necessary  to  form  a  court.  The  life  peers  might 
speak  and  vote  on  all  questions  like  other  peers,  as  long  as 
they  continued  to  exercise  their  judicial  functions  ;  but  if  they 
resigned  these  they  lost  their  seats,  though  they  retained  their 
titles.  It  was  also  provided  that  this  judicial  body  might 
continue  its  sittings  when  Parliament  was  prorogued. 

It  is,  I  think,  no  paradox  to  say  that,  of  all   the   many 


352  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Eeform  Bills  which  have  been  carried  in  our  time,  this 
reform  of  the  House  of  Lords  has  been  the  most  successful. 
It  had  a  limited  and  defined  object,  and  it  perfectly  accom- 
plished it  without  producing  any  countervailing  evil.  From 
the  time  of  Lord  Cairns's  law,  the  appellate  jurisdiction  of  the 
House  of  Lords  has  carried  with  it  all  the  weight  that  should 
attach  to  the  supreme  tribunal  of  a  nation,  and  one,  at  least, 
of  the  old  reproaches  of  the  House  has  been  wiped  away. 

A  modification  of  this  law,  which  has  considerable  consti- 
tutional importance,  was  proposed  and  carried  in  1887  by  a 
Conservative  Government.  It  provided  that  the  law  peers, 
if  they  resigned  their  judicial  offices  and  salaries,  should  still 
retain  their  seats  in  the  House,  and  be  allowed  to  vote  and 
speak  like  other  peers.  In  this  way,  for  the  first  time  in 
modern  days,  life  peers  without  official  positions  might  sit  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  Another  slight  change  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  House  of  Lords  had  been  made  in  1871  by  an 
Act  which  deprived  bankrupt  peers  of  the  right  of  sitting  and 
voting. 

Other  changes  far  less  favourable  to  it  have  taken  place. 
In  no  previous  period  of  English  history  have  creations  in 
the  peerage  been  so  numerous  as  in  the  later  portion  of  the 
present  reign.  A  long  succession  of  short  ministries  has 
contributed  to  increase  the  number,  each  ministry  being- 
desirous  of  marking  its  term  of  office  by  some  creations,  and 
the  destruction,  through  the  competitive  system,  of  most  of 
the  old  methods  of  rewarding  politicians  has  had  the  same 
effect.  Much,  too,  is  due  to  a  certain  vulgarisation  or  cheap- 
ening of  honours  that  has  undoubtedly  characterised  the 
second  half  of  the  present  century ;  and  to  the  increased 
pressure  of  newly  made  wealth  seeking  social  position. 

An  examination  of  these  creations  furnishes  some  rather 
curious  results.  If  we  take  as  our  starting-point  the  acces- 
sion of  Lord  Grey  to  power  in  the  November  of  1830,  when 
the  movement  towards  parliamentary  reform  acquired  a 
decisive  strength,  we  shall  find  that  from  that  period  till  the 
death  of  Lord  Palmerston,  in  October  1865,  creations  were 
comparatively  few.     Sir  Eobert  Peel  especially  had  a  strong 


MODERN  CREATIONS  353 

sense  of  the  danger  of  lowering  the  dignity  of  the  peerage, 
and  in  his  two  ministries  only  twelve  peers  were  created. 
In  the  whole  of  this  period  of  thirty-five  years,  148 
hereditary  peers  were  created  ;  123  of  them  by  Liberal, 
and  twenty-five  by  Conservative,  ministries.  During  this 
space  of  time  the  Liberal  party  were  in  power  for  rather 
more  than  twenty-six  years.' 

If  we  now  pass  to  the  twenty-seven  years  from  the 
beginning  of  1866  to  the  end  of  1892,  we  find  no  less 
than  179  hereditary  peerages  created — eighty-five  of  them 
by  Liberal,  and  ninety-four  by  Conservative,  ministers.  As 
the  Liberals  during  this  period  were  in  power  for  rather 
more  than  eleven,  and  the  Conservatives  for  rather  more 
than  fifteen,  years,  the  proportion  of  peerages  created  by  the 
two  parties  was  not  very  different.  On  both  sides  the 
increased  profusion  of  creations  is  very  great,  and  it  is 
remarkable  that,  even  in  the  earlier  period  which  I  have 
reviewed,  the  number  of  creations  was  considered  by  good 
judges  both  extravagant  and  dangerous.2 

It  will  hardly,  I  think,  be  contended  that  modern 
creations  have  added  greatly  to  the  weight  and  lustre  of 
the  peerage.  There  have,  no  doubt,  been  many  exceptions. 
In  the  fielck  of  politics  a  few  very  eminent  men  have  entered 
the  Upper  House  while  retaining  all  their  mental,  though 
not  all  their  physical,  powers.  Others,  of  respectable,  or 
even  more  than  respectable,  ability,  have  gone  into  it  because 
they  have  passed  under  a  cloud,  because  they  have  lost  an 
election,  or  been  unsuccessful  in  an  office,  or  come  into 
collision  or  rivalry  with  a  colleague,  or  because  a  prime 
minister  wished  to  moderate  or  to  muzzle  them,  or  because 

1  A  table  of  the  additions  to  the  hereditary  peerage  made  during  each 
ministry  since  1830  will  be  found  in  the  Constitutional  Yearbook  for  18'.).3,  p.  63. 

-  Thus,  McCulloch,  writing  in  1846,  says  :  '  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
prerogative  of  creating  peers  has  been  far  too  liberally  exercised,  not  to  say 
abused,  since  the  Revolution,  and  more  especially  since  the  accession  of 
George  III.  Mr.  Pitt,  and  the  ministers  by  whom  he  has  been  followed,  with 
the  single  exception  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  have  lavished  peerages  with  a  profusion 
that  has  been  injurious  alike  to  the  dignity  and  legitimate  influence  of  the- 
peers  and  to  the  independence  of  the  Commons  (McCulloch's  Account  of  the 
British  Empire  :  '  House  of  Lords  '). 

VOL.  I.  A  A 


354  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

he  desired  to  make  room  in  his  Cabinet  for  younger,  stronger, 
or  more  popular  men.  A  few  recruits,  who  would  have 
done  honour  to  any  assembly,  have  been  drawn  from 
diplomacy,  from  the  army  and  navy,  from  the  permanent 
offices,  or  from  those  great  fields  of  Indian  administration 
in  which  so  much  of  the  strongest  character  and  most 
masculine  intellect  of  our  generation  is  formed.  Kinds  of 
eminence  that  lie  outside  the  circle  of  Government  employ- 
ment and  the  legal  profession  have  been  slightly  touched. 
A  great  historian  who  had  been  an  active  Whig  poli- 
tician, and  who  supported  his  party  powerfully  both  by  his 
voice  and  his  pen,  and  a  great  novelist  who  had  been  for 
many  years  a  conspicuous  Tory  member  of  Parliament, 
were  raised  to  the  lowest  grade  in  the  peerage  ;  and  the 
same  dignity  has  been  more  recently  conferred  on  one 
writer,  who  (if  we  except  his  almost  honorary  Government 
post  of  Laureate)  had  no  special  claim  beyond  the  fact  that, 
for  at  least  forty  years,  he  was  universally  recognised  as  one 
of  the  very  greatest  of  living  Englishmen,  the  foremost  poet 
of  his  own  country,  and,  with  perhaps  one  exception,  the 
foremost  poet  then  living  in  the  world.  But  the  bulk  of  the 
accessions  to  the  peerage  come  from  other  quarters.  Great 
wealth,  even  though  it  be  accompanied  by  no  kind  of  real 
distinction,  especially  if  it  be  united  with  a  steady  vote  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  has  been  the  strongest  claim  ;  and, 
next  to  wealth,  great  connections.  Probably  a  large  majority 
of  those  who  have  of  late  years  risen  to  the  peerage  are 
men  whose  names  conveyed  no  idea  of  any  kind  to  the  great 
body  of  the  English  people. 

It  can  scarcely  be  questioned  that  an  infusion  into  the 
aristocracy  of  a  certain  number  of  rich  merchant-princes  is 
an  advantage.  They  represent  a  distinct  and  important 
element  in  English  life,  and  carry  with  them  great  influence 
and  capacity,  It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  the  most 
enduring  aristocratic  government  that  the  modern  world 
has  known  was  that  of  Venice,  the  work  of  a  landless  and 
mercantile  aristocracy.  It  is  as  little  doubtful  that  the 
immense   place    given    to   undistinguished   wealth    in    the 


EE WARDS   OF   GENIUS  355 

modern  peerage  has  contributed  to  lower  its  character.  The 
existence  of  a  peerage  has  been  always  defended,  among 
other  reasons,  on  the  ground  that  it  furnishes  a  reward  for 
great  achievements ;  and  British  Governments  undertake, 
though  in  a  fitful  and  casual  way,  to  distribute  State  honours 
for  many  kinds  of  eminence.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  if 
they  did  not  do  so  ;  but,  if  they  attempt  to  measure  kinds  of 
eminence  that  are  not  political,  they  should,  at  least,  do  so 
in  a  way  that  bears  some  relation  to  the  true  value  of 
things.  An  Upper  House  depends  much  more  than  an 
elective  Assembly  on  the  personal  weight  and  brilliancy  of 
its  members,  and  perhaps  the  only  kind  of  Upper  House  that 
is  likely  in  the  long  run  to  form  some  real  counterpoise  to 
a  democratic  Assembly  is  one  which  includes  a  large  pro- 
portion of  a  nation's  greatest  men,  representing  supreme  and 
acknowledged  achievement  in  man}*  fields. 

The  House  of  Lords  represents  much,  but  it  certainly 
does  not  represent  this.  If  we  ask  what  England  in  the 
present  century  has  contributed  of  most  value  to  the 
progress  of  the  world,  competent  judges  would  probably 
give  a  foremost  place  to  physical  science.  In  no  other 
period  of  the  world's  history  have  the  discoveries  in  these 
fields  been  so  numerous,  so  majestic,  or  so  fruitful.  In  no 
other  period  has  so  large  a  proportion  of  the  highest  intellect 
taken  this  direction.  In  no  other  department  have  English 
achievements,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  the  whole  scientific 
world,  been  so  splendid.  There  is,  I  believe,  only  a  single 
very  recent  example  of  purely  scientific  eminence  being 
recognised  by  a  peerage. 

Closely  akin  to  science,  and  perhaps  even  more  impor- 
tant among  the  elements  of  national  wellbeing,  are  the  great 
healing  professions,  f  Here,  too,  our  century  ranks  among  the 
most  illustrious  in  the  history  of  the  world.  It  has  seen  the 
discovery  of  anaesthetics,  which  is  one  of  the  greatest  boons 
that  have  ever  been  bestowed  upon  suffering  humanity.  It 
has  produced  the  germ  theory  of  disease ;  the  antiseptic 
treatment  in  surgery  ;  a  method  of  removing  ovarian  tumours 
which  has  successfully  combated  one  of  the  most  terrible 


356  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  most  deadly  of  diseases  ;  a  method  of  brain  surgery 
which  has  already  achieved  much,  and  which  promises 
inestimable  progress  in  the  future.  It  has  vastly  ex- 
tended our  knowledge  of  disease  by  the  invention  of  the 
stethoscope,  the  clinical  thermometer,  the  laryngoscope,  the 
ophthalmoscope,  and  in  many  other  ways  which  it  is  not  here 
necessary  to  enumerate.  England  may  justly  claim  a  fore- 
most place  in  this  noble  work,1  and  many  of  her  finest 
intellects  have  been  enlisted  in  its  service.  In  no  single 
instance  has  this  kind  of  eminence  been  recognised  by  a 
peerage.  It  is  clearly  understood  that  another  and  lower 
dignity  is  the  stamp  of  honour  which  the  State  accords  to 
the  very  highest  eminence  in  medicine  and  surgery — as  if  to 
show  in  the  clearest  light  how  inferior  in  its  eyes  are  the  pro- 
fessions which  do  most  to  mitigate  the  great  sum  of  human 
agony,  to  the  professions  which  talk  and  quarrel  and  kill. 

Art  forms  another  important  element  in  the  full  develop- 
ment of  national  life.  In  this  field,  it  is  true,  England 
cannot  claim  any  place  at  all  comparable  to  that  which  she 
has  won  in  science  or  in  the  healing  professions ;  but  if 
measured,  not  by  a  doubtful  comparison  of  three  or  four  of 
the  greatest  names,  but  by  the  number  of  men  of  undoubted 
genius  who  have  appeared  in  a  single  generation,  English  art 
has  never,  I  believe,  ranked  so  high  as  at  present,  and  never 
compared  so  favourably  with  the  art  of  other  nations.  In  1896, 
for  the  first  time,  a  peerage  was  conferred  on  an  English 
artist.  The  doors  of  the  Upper  House  were  never  opened  to 
the  men  who,  in  this  century,  have  rendered  the  greatest 
services  to  the  State  and  to  humanity — to  Simpson,  whose 
discovery  of  chloroform  has  prevented  an  amount  of  human 
suffering  which  it  would  need  the  imagination  of  a  Dante  to 
realise  ;  to  Stephenson,  whose  engineering  genius  has  done 
more  than  that  of  any  other  man  to  revolutionise  the  whole 
economical  and  industrial  condition  of  England ;  to  Chadwick, 
the  father  of  that  great  movement  of  sanitary  reform  which 

1  An  excellent  sketch  of  English  achievements  in  this  field  will  be  found 
in  the  essay  by  Dr.  Brudenell  Carter  on  Medicine  and  Surgery  in  Ward's  Reign 
of  Queen  Victoria. 


CONSERVATISM   OF   THE   PEERAGE  357 

has  already  saved  more  human  lives  than  any,  except  perhaps 
the  very  greatest,  conquerors  have  destroyed ;  to  Darwin, 
who  has  transformed  our  conceptions  of  the  universe  and 
whose  influence  is  felt  to  the  farthest  frontiers  of  speculative 
thought.  For  their  own  sakes  it  is  not  to  be  regretted  that 
the  claims  of  such  men  were  not  thrown  into  humiliating 
competition  with  those  of  the  acute  lawyers  and  politicians, 
the  great  country  gentlemen  and  the  opulent  brewers,  who 
throng  the  approaches  to  the  Upper  House ;  but  if  such  a 
House  is  to  continue,  and,  in  a  democratic  age,  is  to  retain 
its  weight  and  influence  in  the  State,  it  is  not  likely  that 
elements  of  this  kind  can  for  ever  be  neglected. 

The  position  of  an  hereditary  Chamber  in  a  democratic 
age  is  a  problem  of  much  difficulty  and  obscurity.  I  have 
traced  in  a  former  chapter  the  force  and  the  danger  of  the 
current  which  is  making  all  parts  of  the  political  machinery 
of  a  piece,  breaking  down  all  the  inequalities,  diversities  of 
tendency,  counterbalancing  and  restraining  influences,  on 
which  the  true  liberty  and  the  lasting  security  of  nations  so 
largely  depend.  Such  a  movement  is  naturally  inimical  to 
the  hereditary  principle  in  legislation,  and  the  danger  has 
been  intensified  by  the  enormous  increase  during  the  last  few 
years  in  the  political  difference  between  the  House  of  Lords 
and  one  of  the  great  parties  in  the  State.  This  fact  is 
especially  significant,  as  about  two-thirds  of  the  numerous 
creations  that  have  been  made  in  the  present  reign  have 
been  made  by  Liberal  Governments,  while  an  appreciable 
number  of  the  earlier  peerages  consist  of  members  of  those 
great  Whig  houses  which  have  been  the  oldest  and  steadiest 
supporters  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  It  is  true,  as  I  have 
said,  that  an  Upper  House  is  naturally  a  moderating, 
restraining,  and  retarding  body,  rather  than  an  impelling  one  ; 
that  the  bias  of  an  hereditary  class  is  naturally  on  the  side 
of  habit  and  tradition  ;  and  that  a  very  opulent  class  is  in- 
evitably conservative  in  questions  relating  to  property.  But 
these  considerations  are  far  from  accounting  for  the  full 
measure  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place.  Till  the  death 
of  Lord  Palmerston  there  was  no  great  or  steady  party  pre- 


358  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

ponderance  in  the  House  of  Lords.  It  grew  up  mainly  under 
the  policy  of  Mr.  Gladstone ;  but  it  only  acquired  its  over- 
whelming magnitude  when  that  statesman  announced  his 
determination  to  place  the  government  of  Ireland  in  the 
hands  of  the  party  which  he  had  shortly  before  described  as 
aiming  at  public  plunder  and  the  dismemberment  of  the 
Empire.  The  great  body  of  the  Liberal  peers  refused  to 
follow  him,  and  although  he  had  himself,  in  his  different 
ministries,  created  about  eighty  peerages,  his  followers  in 
the  House  of  Lords  soon  dwindled  into  little  more  than  a 
small  number  of  habitual  office-holders.1 

The  disproportion  was  very  great ;  but  it  must  be  ac- 
knowledged that  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  form, 
by  any  fair  means,  an  Upper  Chamber  consisting  of  men 
of  large  property  and  considerable  and  independent  posi- 
tions, in  which  opinions  hostile  to  Irish  Home  Rule  did 
not  greatly  preponderate.  It  must  also  be  added,  that  the 
elections  of  1886  and  1895  have  shown  "beyond  all  possi- 
bility of  doubt  that,  on  the  Home  Eule  question,  the  House  of 
Lords  represented  the  true  sentiments  of  the  democracy  of 
the  country. 

And  certainly  the  very  remarkable  parliamentary  history 
of  England  from  1892  to  1895  does  not  weaken  the  conclu- 
sion. It  appears  that,  under  our  present  conditions,  some 
desire  for  a  change  of  representation  and  government  at  every 
election  acts  with  an  almost  tidal  regularity  on  the  constitu- 
encies, though  the  strength  or  weakness  of  the  revulsion 
depends  upon  the  policy  of  the  rival  parties.  In  the  election 
of  1892,  and  after  a  Conservative  Government  which  had 
lasted  for  more  than  six  years,  the  Home  Rule  party  obtained 
a  small  and  precarious  majority  of  forty  votes.  In  England, 
and  especially  in  the  great  towns  of  England,  it  was  utterly 
defeated  ;  in  Great  Britain  as  a  whole  it  was  in  a  minority  ; 
but  the  skilful  organisation  and  large  over-representation  of  the 
Irish  peasantry,  and  the  strength  of  the  Church  disestablish- 

1  In  his  speech  on  the  reform  of  the  House  of  Lords,  March  19,  1888, 
Lord  Rosebery  estimated  the  number  of  the  Home  Rule  peers  at  about  thirty, 
or  about  5  per  cent,  of  the  House  of  Lords. 


THE   PARLIAMENT   OF   1892-1895  359 

ment  party  in  Wales,  turned  the  balance,  and  a  Government 
was  formed  depending  for  its  support  on  a  small  majority, 
consisting  of  a  number  of  discordant  factions.  The  remark- 
able House  of  Commons  that  sat  in  those  years  passed  a  Bill 
placing  the  government  of  Ireland  in  the  hands  of  a  separate 
Parliament,  at  the  same  time  leaving  a  powerful  contin- 
gent of  eighty  Irish  members  in  the  Parliament  at  West- 
minster ;  it  passed  a  vote  in  favour  of  the  establishment  of 
a  separate  Parliament  in  Scotland ;  it  passed  another  vote 
in  favour  of  breaking  up  the  British  Isles  into  a  federation, 
with  a  number  of  distinct  legislatures.  It  carried  by  a  small 
majority,  though  it  afterwards  rescinded,  an  amendment  to 
the  Address,  in  March  1894,  praying  her  Majesty  '  that  the 
power  now  enjoyed  by  persons  not  elected  to  Parliament  by 
the  possessors  of  the  parliamentary  franchise  to  prevent  Bills 
being  submitted  to  your  Majesty  for  your  Royal  approval 
shall  cease,'  and  expressing  a  hope  that  '  if  it  be  necessary 
your  Majesty  will,  with  and  by  the  advice  of  your  re- 
sponsible ministers,  use  the  powers  vested  in  your  Majesty 
to  secure  the  passing  of  this  much-needed  reform.' 

The  members  of  the  Government  clearly  saw  that  it  was 
impossible  to  carry  Home  Rule  by  a  direct  appeal  to  the 
nation.  When  the  Home  Rule  Bill,  which  was  a  capital 
portion  of  their  policy,  was  rejected  by  an  overwhelming 
majority  in  the  Lords,  they  did  not  venture  to  dissolve  upon 
the  question,  and  submit  it  to  the  adjudication  of  the  con- 
stituencies.. They  hoped  to  secure  a  Home  Rule  majority 
on  other  grounds,  by  creating  and  stimulating  an  agitation 
against  the  House  of  Lords.  The  last  speech  delivered  in 
Parliament  by  Mr.  Gladstone  was  truly  described  by  Mr. 
Balfour  as  '  a  declaration  of  war  against  the  House  of  Lords.' 
This  and  the  Home  Rule  policy  were  the  two  legacies  which 
the  retiring  statesman  bequeathed  to  his  party. 

As  early  as  1888  no  less  than  seven  members  who  after- 
wards sat  in  the  Radical  Cabinet  of  1892,  voted  in  favour  of 
a  resolution  of  Mr.  Labouchere  stating  '  that,  in  the  opinion 
of  this  House,  it  is  contrary  to  the  true  principles  of  repre- 
sentative government,  and  injurious  to  their  efficacy,  that  any 


360  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

person  should  be  a  member  of  one  House  of  the  Legislature 
by  right  of  birth,  and  it  is  therefore  desirable  to  put  an  end 
to  any  such  existing  rights.'  '  It  is  not  surprising  that  such 
men  should  have  eagerly  taken  up  the  war  against  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  Cabinet  ministers  took  the  foremost 
part  in  leading  the  assault.  The  policy  of  '  filling  the  cup  ' 
was  openly  avowed,  and  it  meant  that  measure  after  measure 
was  to  be  introduced  which  was  believed  to  be  popular,  in 
order  that  the  House  of  Lords  might  reject  them,  and  might 
in  this  way  be  discredited  with  the  electors.  It  was  hoped 
that  by  such  a  policy  the  tide  of  democratic  feeling  would 
rise  with  irresistible  force  against  the  hereditary  House. 
Mr.  Morley  rarely  made  a  speech  on  the  platform  without 
denouncing  the  hereditary  legislators.  Mr.  Shaw  Lefevre 
informed  his  constituents  that  '  the  wisest  course  at  the 
moment  is  to  reduce  still  further  the  power  of  the  Lords 
by  depriving  them  of  the  power  of  veto,'  thus  reducing  them 
to  an  absolutely  impotent  body,  with  no  power  of  even 
retarding  legislation.  Sir  William  Harcourt  declared  '  that 
a  majority  of  a  single  vote  in  the  House  of  Commons  is  a 
more  accurate  representation  of  the  popular  will  than  a 
majority  of  four  hundred  in  the  House  of  Lords.' 2 

Other  ministers,  and  their  supporters  in  Parliament,  fol- 
lowed suit,  and  outside  the  House  Radical  organisations  and 
Radical  speakers  and  writers  vied  with  one  another  in  the 
violence  of  their  denunciations,  in  their  contemptuous  or 
arrogant  predictions  that  the  hereditary  principle  had  had 
its  day.  Catalogues  of  the  pretended  misdeeds  of  the  House 
of  Lords  during  the  last  fifty  years  were  drawn  up,  without 
the  slightest  intimation  that  it  had  ever  fulfilled  any  one 
useful  purpose.  One  of  the  most  malevolent  and  grossly 
partial  of  these  works  was  widely  circulated  with  the 
warm  recommendation  of  Mr.  Gladstone*  Another  popular 
Radical  writer  observed,  in  a  highly  jubilant  strain,  that  at 
the  election  of  1892  the  country  had  given  a  clear  mandate 
to  the  House  of  Commons  to  enact  a  Home  Rule  measure ; 

1  See  Charley,  The  Crusade  against  the  Constitution,  pp.  514-16. 

2  Ibid.  pp.  437,  462. 


AN   ABORTIVE   CRUSADE  36 1 

that  this  was  pre-eminently  '  one  of  the  acts  upon  which  a 
great  and  serious  people  never  go  back  ; '  and  that  the  House 
of  Lords  was  nothing  more  than  a  farce  and  a  nuisance, 
which  must  be  speedily  crushed.  He  graciously  added  that 
its  opposition  might  be  overcome  by  raising  500  sweeps 
to  the  peerage.1 

There  were  signs,  however,  that  all  was  not  moving  as 
the  leaders  of  this  party  desired.  It  was  a  curious  and 
significant  fact  that,  on  the  retirement  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  the 
party  found  it  necessary  or  expedient,  after  much  heart- 
burning, to  go  to  the  House  of  Lords  for  their  leader,  putting 
aside  the  claims  of  their  leader  in  the  Commons.  Under 
the  new  system  of  local  government  a  vast  multitude  of 
elections  were  taking  place  on  an  exceedingly  democratic 
basis,  and,  to  attentive  observers,  no  feature  of  these  elections 
was  more  remarkable  than  the  extraordinary  popularity  of 
peers  as  candidates,  even  in  places  where  they  had  no  special 
local  interests.  It  is  only  necessary  to  look  through  the 
elections  of  the  London  County  Council  to  recognise  this 
fact.  It  was  evident,  too,  that  the  attempt  to  create  a 
popular  agitation  against  the  Lords  was  proving  very  im- 
potent. Neither  Great  Britain  nor  indeed  Ireland  showed 
the  smallest  indignation  because  the  House  of  Lords  had 
rejected  the  Irish  Home  Rule  Bill,  and  because  it  had 
refused  to  consent  to  the  scheme  for  restoring,  at  the  cost  of 
a  large  sum  of  public  money,  the  tenants  who  had  been 
evicted  because  they  had  joined  the  conspiracy  called  '  the 
Plan  of  Campaign,'  Nor  were  the  ministers  more  successful 
in  their  attempts  to  persuade  the  working  men  that  the 
House  of  Lords  had  injured  them  because  it  had  introduced 
into  the  Employers'  Liability  Bill  an  amendment  providing 
that,  if  any  body  of  workmen  expressed  by  a  clear  two-thirds 
vote  their  desire  to  make  their  own  insurance  arrangements 
with  their  employers,  and  to  contract  themselves  out  of  the 
Bill,  they  should  be  allowed  to  do  as  they  wished.  Divisions 
multiplied ;    bye-elections   were    unfavourable,   and  at  last, 

1  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison,  '  How  tc-  drive  Home  Rule  Home  '  (Fortnightly 
Review,  September,  1892). 


362  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

after  a  feeble  life  of  three  years,  the  Government  fell,  and  the 
inevitable  dissolution  speedily  followed.  On  the  eve  of  the 
election  Lord  Rosebery  clearly  and  emphatically  told  the 
country  that  the  real  and  supreme  question  at  issue  was  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  that  Home  Rule  and  all  the  other  govern- 
ment measures  were  involved  in  the  destruction  of  what  he 
somewhat  absurdly  called  its  '  legislative  preponderance.' 

The  country  had  now  the  opportunity  of  expressing  its 
opinion  about  these  men,  their  objects,  and  their  methods, 
and  it  gave  an  answer  which  no  sophistry  could  disguise 
and  no  stupidity  could  misunderstand.  The  complete, 
crushing,  and  unequivocal  defeat  of  the  Radical  party  in  1895 
is  certainly  one  of  the  most  memorable  events  in  the  present 
generation.  No  circumstance  of  humiliation  was  wanting. 
The  majority  against  the  late  Government  was  greater  than 
any  which  had  been  seen  in  England  since  the  election  of 
1832.  In  addition  to  several  less  important  members  of 
that  Government,  four  Cabinet  ministers,  including  those 
whose  attacks  on  the  House  of  Lords  I  have  quoted,  were 
defeated  at  the  poll.  In  nearly  every  portion  of  the  king- 
dom, and  in  town  and  country  alike,  the  verdict  was  the 
same.  In  constituencies  where  the  members  of  the  party 
escaped  disaster  they  usually  did  so  by  a  greatly  decreased 
vote.  But  most  conspicuous  of  all  was  the  emphatic  con- 
demnation of  the  New  Liberalism,  not  only  in  London,  but 
also  in  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  great  provincial 
towns,  where  industrial  life  is  most  intense,  where  vast 
masses  of  working  men  are  agglomerated,  and  where  the 
older  Liberalism  had  found  its  strongest  and  most  enthusi- 
astic support. 

The  lesson  was  a  salutary  one,  and  it  is  not  likely  to  be 
forgotten.  It  proved  beyond  dispute  what  many  had  begun 
to  doubt — the  profound  conservatism  of  the  great  masses  of 
the  English  people,  and  their  genuine  attachment  to  the 
institutions  of  their  country.  It  showed  clearly  which  sec- 
tion of  the  Liberal  party  in  the  great  Home  Rule  schism 
most  truly  reflected  the  sentiments  and  the  conviction  of 
the  nation.     It  showed  how  enormously  men  had  overrated 


GENERAL   ELECTION,   1895  363 

the  importance  of  the  noisy  groups  of  Socialists,  faddists, 
and  revolutionists  that  float  upon  the  surface  of  English 
political  thought  like  froth-flakes  on  a  deep  and  silent  sea. 
It  showed  also  not  less  clearly  how  entirely  alien  to  English 
feeling  was  the  log-rolling  strategy  which  had  of  late  been 
growing  so  rapidly  in  English  politics. 

It  would  be  uncandid  and  untrue  to  represent  this  elec- 
tion as  having  turned  solely  on  the  question  of  the  House  of 
Lords.  As  is  always  the  case,  many  different  elements  con- 
spired to  the  result,  and  among  them  must  be  included  that 
periodical  tidal  movement  to  which  I  have  already  referred. 
At  the  same  time,  the  question  of  the  Upper  House  was  in 
the  very  foreground  of  the  battle,  and  was  as  directly  at 
issue  as  it  is  ever  likely  to  be  in  England,  unless  she  should 
adopt  the  system  of  a  Keferendum.  The  result  of  the  elec- 
tion clearly  showed  that  the  House  of  Lords  had  represented 
the  opinion  of  the  nation  much  more  truly  than  the  House 
of  Commons  between  1892  and  1895  ;  that  the  country  had 
no  wish  to  overthrow  it,  or  to  destroy  its  power,  or  to 
extirpate  its  hereditary  element,  and  that,  as  long  as  its 
members  discharge  their  duty  faithfully,  fearlessly,  and 
moderately,  they  are  not  likely  to  want  popular  support. 

At  the  same  time,  there  could  be  no  greater  error  than  to 
infer  from  the  triumph  of  1895  that  there  is  no  need  of 
any  change  or  reform  in  the  Upper  House,  widening  its 
basis,  increasing  its  strength  and  its  representative  character. 
With  the  overwhelming  power  that  is  now  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  House  of  Commons ;  with  the  liability  of  that 
House  to  great  and  sudden  fluctuations  ;  with  the  dangerous 
influence  which,  in  certain  conditions  of  politics,  small 
groups,  or  side-issues,  or  personal  dissensions  or  incapacities, 
may  exercise  on  the  course  of  its  decisions ;  with  the 
manifest  decay  of  the  moderate  and  moderating  elements  in 
one  of  the  great  parties  of  the  State,  and  with  a  Constitu- 
tion that  provides  none  of  the  special  safeguards  against 
sudden  and  inconsiderate  organic  change  that  are  found  in 
America  and  in  nearly  all  continental  countries,  the  existence 
of  a  strong  Upper  Chamber  is  a  matter  of  the  first  necessity. 


364  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

It  is  probable  that  the  continuance,  without  a  great  cata- 
strophe, of  democratic  government  depends  mainly  upon  the 
possibility  of  organising  such  a  Chamber,  representing  the 
great  social  and  industrial  interests  in  the  country,  and 
sufficiently  powerful  to  avert  the  evils  that  must,  sooner  or 
later,  follow  from  the  unbridled  power  of  a  purely  democratic 
House  of  Commons,  There  is  no  question  in  politics  of  a 
more  serious  interest  than  the  elements  from  which  such  a 
body  should  be  composed. 

A  brief  glance  at  the  constitutions  of  some  other  countries 
may  here  be  instructive.  The  most  illustrious  of  all  examples 
of  a  great  controlling  aristocratic  assembly  is  the  Senate  of 
ancient  Rome,  a  body  which  existed  for  no  less  than  1,300 
years,  and  which,  at  least  during  the  period  of  the  Republic, 
contributed  more  than  any  other  to  mould  the  fortunes  and 
the  character  of  the  only  State  which  both  achieved  and 
long  maintained  supreme  power  in  the  world.  Like  the 
House  of  Lords,  it  was  at  once  a  legislative  and  a  judicial 
body,  though  its  legislative  functions  were  confined  to 
sanctioning  laws  which  had  been  voted  by  the  people,  and 
were,  as  time  went  on;  greatly  impaired.  It  had,  however, 
the  right  of  imposing  and  applying  taxes.  It  had  complete 
authority  over  foreign  policy,  over  the  administration  of  the 
provinces,  and  over  the  conduct  of  war.  It  watched,  as  a 
supreme  body,  over  the  security  of  the  State,  and  had  even  a 
right  in  time  of  great  danger  to  suspend  the  laws  and  confer 
absolute  powers  on  the  consuls.  Though  it  was  essentially 
a  patrician  body,  it  was  not,  until  a  late  period  of  the  Empire, 
an  hereditary  body.  One  order  of  magistrates  possessed  as 
such  the  right  of  entering  into  it ;  the  bulk  of  the  senators 
were  chosen  for  life,  first  by  the  consuls,  and  afterwards  by 
the  censors,  but  chosen  only  out  of  particular  classes.  In 
the  earlier  period  they  were  exclusively  patricians  ;  but  they 
were  afterwards  chosen  from  those  who  held  magisterial 
functions,  and,  as  the  magistrates  were  elected  by  the  whole 
people,  though  by  a  very  unequal  suffrage,  the  democratic 
influence  thus  obtained  a  real,  though  indirect,  influence  in 
the  Senate. 


ROMAN   AND   AMERICAN   SENATES  365 

During  the  last  days  of  the  Republic,  and  under  the 
Empire,  the  Senate  went  through  other  phases,  which  it  is 
not  necessary  for  us  to  follow.  Though  greatly  changed  and 
greatly  lowered,  it  survived  every  other  element  of  Roman 
freedom,  and  even  after  the  establishment  of  the  Byzantine 
Empire  and  amid  the  anarchy  of  the  barbaric  invasions  it 
played  no  small  part  in  Roman  hfstory.  It  is  here  sufficient 
to  notice  that  in  the  days  of  its  vigour  and  greatness  it  was 
neither  an  elective  nor  an  hereditary  body,  though  both 
election  and  heredity  had  some  influence  over  its  compo- 
sition ;  and  that,  next  to  its  own  wisdom,  it  owed  its  power 
chiefly  to  the  number  and  importance  of  the  great  functions 
that  were  confided  to  it.1 

If  we  pass  over  the  great  chasm  which  separates  the 
Roman  Republic  from  our  modern  day,  we  shall  find  little 
difference  of  opinion,  among  competent  judges,  that  the 
American  Senate  is  the  Upper  Chamber,  out  of  England, 
which  has  hitherto  ranked  the  highest.  Until  very  recent 
days  all  critics  of  the  American  Constitution  would  have 
agreed  with  Story,  that  the  Senate  is  not  only  '  a  most 
important  and  valuable  part  of  the  system,'  but  is  even  '  the 
real  balance-wheel,  which  adjusts  and  regulates  its  move- 
ments.' 2  A  few  discordant  voices  have  of  late  been  heard, 
but  as  a  work  of  constructive  and  prescient  statesmanship  it 
unquestionably  ranks  very  high,  though  one  of  its  most 
important  characteristics  is  less  due  to  deliberate  foresight 
than  to  an  inevitable  compromise.  The  smaller  States  refused 
to  join  in  the  federation  unless  they  obtained,  in  at  least  one 
House,  the  security  of  an  equal  vote,  and  were  thus  guaran- 
teed against  the  danger  of  absorption  by  their  larger  col- 
leagues. In  the  Continental  Congress,  which  first  met  in 
1774,  it  had  been  agreed  that  each  State  should,  in  voting, 
count  for  only  one ;  and  this  system  was  afterwards  adopted 
in  the  Senate,  with  one  slight  modification.     In  the  Conti- 

1  See  Merivale's  Hist,  of  Rome,  iv.  9-14  ;  Bluntschli,  De  VEtat,  pp.  884- 
85  ;  Laveleye,  Gouvernement  dans  la  Democratic,  ii.  19-22.  See,  too,  the  notices 
of  the  Senate  in  Mommsen  and  Gibbon,  and,  on  its  later  history,  Gregorovius. 
IFist.  of  Rome  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

-  Commentaries  on  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  ii.  182. 


366  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

nental  Congress  the  vote  had  been  by  States.  In  the  Senate 
each  State  was  represented  by  two  members,  but  they  voted 
as  individuals,  and  might  therefore  take  different  sides. 

By  this  process  a  powerful  counterpoise  was  established  to 
the  empire  of  mere  numbers  which  prevailed  in  the  Lower 
House.  Two  members  represented  the  smallest  as  well  as 
the  largest  State,  and  they  were  chosen,  not  by  a  directly 
popular  vote,  but  by  the  State  legislatures,  which,  like  the 
Federal  Legislature,  consisted  of  two  Houses.1 

The  next  question  that  arose  was  the  length  of  time 
during  which  the  senators  should  hold  their  office.  Montes- 
quieu had  maintained  that  a  senator  ought  to  be  chosen  for 
life,  as  was  the  custom  in  Rome  and  in  the  Greek  republics. 
Alexander  Hamilton,  the  foremost  political  thinker  of 
America,  and  probably  Jay,  desired  to  adopt  this  system  ; 2 
but  it  was  ultimately  agreed  to  adopt  a  limited  period,  con- 
siderably longer  than  that  which  was  assigned  to  the 
members  of  the  House  of  Representatives.  In  this  latter 
House  the  term  of  office  is  only  two  years.  In  the  Senate  it 
is  six  years,  one-third  of  the  Senate  being  renewed  every 
two  years  by  the  State  legislatures.  The  Senate  is  thus  a 
permanent  body  subject  to  frequent  modifications.  It  was 
the  object  of  its  framers  to  combine  a  considerable  measure  of 
that  continuity  of  policy  which  should  be  one  of  the  first  ends 
of  a  legislator  with  close  and  constant  contact  with  State 
opinion  ;  to  place  the  Senate  above  the  violent  impulses, 
the  transient  passions,  the  dangerous  fluctuations  of  un- 
instructed  masses,  but  not  above  the  genuine  and  steady 
currents  of  national  feeling.  The  qualifications  of  a  senator 
were  also  different  from  those  of  the  members  of  the  other 
House.  He  must  have  been  a  citizen  for  nine  years,  whereas 
in  the  other  House  seven  years  only  were  required.  He 
must  be  at  least  thirty  years  old,  while  the  members  of  the 
Lower  House  need  only  be  twenty-five.  The  age  of  thirty 
was  probably  adopted  in  imitation  of  the  Roman  Senate. 
The  body,  representing  only  the  States,  is  a  very  small 

1  For  the  method  of  election  see  pp.  57,  58  of  this  volume. 
*  Story,  ii.  189.     See,  too.  Hamilton's  Works,  i.  334. 


THE   AMERICAN   SENATE  367 

one.  It  at  first  consisted  of  twenty-six  members,  and  with 
the  multiplication  of  States  has  gradually  risen  to  eighty- 
six.1  As  might  be  expected  from  the  manner  of  election, 
nearly  all  its  members  are  experienced  politicians,  who  have 
sat  in  the  State  legislatures  or  the  House  of  Eepresentatives, 
or  have  held  high  official  posts,  and  in  intellect,  character, 
and  influence  they  rise  considerably  above  the  average  of 
American  public  men.  The  Senate  is  presided  over  by  the 
Vice-President  of  the  United  States,  who,  however,  is  not 
chosen  by  it,  and  who  has  no  vote  in  it,  except  in  the  event 
of  equal  division.  As  a  legislative  body  it  has  the  same 
powers  as  the  other  House,  except  that  it  cannot  originate 
money  Bills,  though  it  may  both  alter  and  reject  them.  It 
is  not,  like  the  House  of  Lords,  the  supreme  court  of  appeal, 
but  public  men  accused  of  violations  of  public  trusts  and 
duties  may  be  impeached  before  it  by  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives. Its  position  in  this  respect  resembles,  but  not 
exactly,  that  of  the  British  House  of  Lords.  In  America 
two-thirds  of  the  members  present  must  concur  for  a  con- 
viction ;  the  senators  in  cases  of  impeachment  vote  on  oath, 
or  on  affirmation,  and  not,  like  English  peers,  on  their  honour ; 
their  sentence  does  not  extend  further  than  a  removal  from 
office  and  a  disqualification  from  holding  office,  and  it  leaves 
the  convicted  persons  still  liable  to  indictment  and  punish- 
ment according  to  law.  If  the  person  impeached  is  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  the  Chief  Justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  presides  over  the  Senate,  as  the  Vice- 
President  would  have  a  personal  interest  in  the  issue.  It 
must  be  added  that  impeachment  has  long  been  obsolete  in 
England,  but  is  still  sometimes  employed  in  the  United 
States.  Subject  to  the  limits  and  conditions  which  the 
American  Constitution  lays  down,  it  is  a  valuable  and  much- 
needed  restraint  upon  corruption. 

But  the  most  distinctive  feature  of  the  American  Senate 
is  its  large  share  in  what  in  most  countries  would  be  con- 
sidered the  functions  of  the  Executive.  In  foreign  policy  it 
exercises  a  commanding  and  most  salutary  influence.     The 

1  Including  the  senators  for  the  new  State  of  Utah. 


368  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

American  Constitution  has  carefully  provided  against  the 
passion  for  organic  change  which  is  natural  to  democracy ; 
but  it  was  more  difficult  to  provide  against  the  extreme 
dangers  that  may  ensue  when  foreign  policy  falls  into  the 
hands  of  demagogues,  is  treated  as  a  mere  shuttlecock  of 
party,  and  conducted  with  a  view  to  winning  votes.  The 
United  States  have  certainly  not  escaped  this  evil.  In 
few  other  countries  has  the  language  of  public  men,  even 
in  responsible  positions,  been  more  frequently  insulting  to 
other  nations,  and  especially  to  Great  Britain,  on  occasions 
when  by  such  means  some  class  of  electors  might  be  won. 
If  America  had  been  a  European  continental  power,  sur- 
rounded by  great  military  empires,  the  attitude  of  her  public 
men,  and  even  of  her  legislative  bodies,  towards  other  nations 
and  their  affairs  would  have  drawn  her  into  many  wars. 
Fortunately  for  her,  she  escapes  by  her  situation  the  chief 
dangers  and  complications  of  foreign  policy.  In  England, 
at  least,  the  motives  that  inspire  the  language  of  her  public 
men  whenever  an  election  is  impending  are  now  well  under- 
stood, and  foreign  affairs,  before  they  reach  the  stage  when 
words  are  translated  into  acts,  pass  into  a  calmer  and  wiser 
atmosphere.  No  treaty  with  a  foreign  Power  can  be  con- 
tracted, and  no  ambassador  or  other  negotiator  can  be 
appointed,  without  the  assent  of  the  Senate,  and  the  whole 
subject  of  foreign  policy  is  therefore  brought  under  the 
supervision  of  the  standing  committee  of  that  body. 

Like  the  English  Cabinet,  it  on  these  occasions  deliberates 
and  decides  in  secret.  It  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able characteristics  of  the  American  democracy,  how  much 
of  its  working  is  withdrawn  from  the  public  eye.  As  I  have 
already  mentioned,  in  the  earlier  period  of  its  history  the 
sittings  of  the  Senate  were  altogether  secret,1  and  the  rule 
of  secrecy  still  prevails  in  its  '  executive  sessions,'  though,  on 
a  demand  of  a  fifth  of  the  members  present,  the  votes  of  the 
members  may  be  published.  On  the  whole,  this  arrange- 
ment does  much  to  secure  a  true,  thorough,  and  impartial 
examination  of  foreign  policy,  free  from  the  claptrap  and 

1  Bryce,  i.  149. 


THE   AMERICAN   SENATE  369 

popularity-hunting  that  too  often  accompany  public  dis- 
cussion, and  the  corruption  and  intrigue  that  usually  follow 
complete  secrecy. 

In  the  last  place,  the  Senate  has  a  great  part,  in  concur- 
rence with  the  President,  in  distributing  the  patronage  of 
the  State.  It  is  the  President,  indeed,  and  the  President 
alone,  who  selects,  but  the  consent  of  the  Senate  is  required 
to  the  appointment.  This  applies  not  only  to  the  diplomatic 
and  great  executive  appointments,  but  also  to  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  judges  of  the" Supreme  Court.  Until  1867  the 
assent  of  the  Senate  was  only  required  to  appointments, 
but  not  to  removals  ;  but  a  law  of  that  year  restricted  the 
sole  power  of  the  President  to  that  of  suspending  an  official 
when  Congress  is  not  in  session.1 

Such,  in  its  general  outlines,  is  this  illustrious  body, 
which  plays  so  important  a  part  in  American  history,  and 
has  excited  the  envy  and  admiration  of  many  European 
statesmen  and  writers  on  politics.  Its  merits  are  great  and 
manifest,  though  there  has  been  of  late  some  tendency  to 
believe  that  they  have  been  exaggerated,  and  although  it  is 
unfortunately  but  too  clear  that  they  have  not  been  wholly 
retained.^  The  sketch  which  I  have  drawn  in  a  former 
chapter  of  the  later  course  of  American  politics  sufficiently 
proves  it,  and  sufficiently  indicates  the  cause.  The  excellent 
system  of  indirect  and  double  election,  which  the  framers  of 
the  Constitution  considered  the  best  way  of  freeing  demo- 
cracy from  its  baser  and  more  foolish  elements,  has  not 
been  able  to  withstand  the  pressure  and  the  ingenuity  of 
caucuses  and  managers.  The  men  who  are  entrusted  with 
the  task  of  voting  for  the  President  have  long  since  been 
deprived  by  their  electors  of  all  liberty  of  choice,  and  are 
strictly  pledged  to  vote  for  particular  candidates.  In  the 
election  of  senators  a  similar  process  has  gradually,  though 
more  imperfectly,  prevailed.  The  State  legislatures  are 
essentially  the  creatures  of  the  caucus,  and  the  members 
are  pledged  when  elected  to  vote  for  particular  candidates 
for  the  Senate.     The  system  of  the  equality  of  the  States 

1  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual,  p.  13. 
VOL.  I.  B  B 


370  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

has  been  very  valuable  in  counteracting  one  great  danger  of 
democracy,  but  it  introduced  a  danger  of  another  kind. 
The  desire  of  the  free  and  slave  sections  of  the  country  to 
multiply  States  of  their  own  complexion,  in  order  to  acquire 
or  maintain  a  preponderance  in  the  Senate,  was  one  main 
cause  of  the  great  Civil  War.  The  Senators  are  usually  the 
most  prominent  statesmen  of  legislatures  that  are  often 
exceedingly  corrupt,  and  the  stream  which  springs  from  a 
tainted  fountain  cannot  be  wholly  pure.  In  spite  of  their 
small  number  and  their  careful  selection,  the  members  of 
the  American  Senate  have  not  been  free  from  the  taint  or 
suspicion  of  personal  corruption.1 

Though  in  some  respects  greatly  superior  to  the  British 
House  of  Lords  as  an  Upper  Chamber,  the  Senate  ranks  in 
this  respect  clearly  below  it,  and  below  most  of  the  Upper 
Houses  in  Europe.     One  of  the  worst  results  of  democracy, 
and  especially  one  of  the  worst  results  of  the  influence  of 
American  example  upon  politics,  is  the  tendency  which  it 
produces  to  overrate  the  importance  of  machinery,  and  to 
underrate  the  importance  of  character  in  public  life.     It  is 
not  surprising  that  it  should  be  so,  for  the  American  Consti- 
tution is  probably  the  best  example  which  history  affords 
of  wise  political  machinery.     Nor  are  the  great  men  who 
formed  it  to  be  blamed  if  their  successors,  by  too  lax  laws 
of  naturalisation  and  by  breaking  down  all  the  old  restric- 
tions and  qualifications  of  race,  colour,  and  property,  have 
degraded  the  electorate,  and  in  some  serious  respects  impaired 
the  working  of  the  Constitution.     To  me,  at  least,  it  seems 
more  than  doubtful  whether  there  is  any  political  advan- 
tage which   is  not  too  dearly  bought  if  it  leads  to  a  per- 
manent lowering  of  the  character  of  public  men  and  of  the 
moral  tone  of  public  life.     In  the  long  run,  the  increasing 
or   diminishing   importance   of   character  in  public  life  is 
perhaps  the  best  test  of  the  progress  or  decline  of  nations. 
It  is  an  ominous  sign  for  a  nation  when  its  governors  and 
legislators   are   corrupt,    but   it  is  a  still  worse  sign  when 

1  See  the  admirable  pages  on  the  Senate  in  Mr.  Bryce's  American  Common- 
wealth. 


THE   AMERICAN   SENATE 


37* 


public  opinion  has  come  to  acquiesce  placidly  in  their  corrup- 
tion. 

On  the  whole,  however,  the  influence  of.  the  American 
Senate  has  been  eminently  for  good  ;  but  careful  observers 
believe  that  it  has  become  more  subservient  than  it  once 
was  to  the  corrupt  party  influences  that  sway  American 
politics.  Its  veto  upon  public  appointments  has  been,  I 
believe,  of  great  advantage,  but  it  has  not  always  been 
exercised  as  it  ought.  There  is  no  diplomatic  service  in  the 
world  which  has  included  men  of  higher  abilities  or  purer 
characters  than  that  of  America  ;  but  there  is  also,  I  suppose, 
no  other  civilised  nation  where  it  would  be  possible  for  a 
Government,  for  the  purpose  of  ingratiating  itself  with  a 
particular  class  of  voters,  to  select  as  their  national  representa- 
tive in  a  foreign  country  a  man  of  another  nation  who  had 
recently  fled  from  justice  under  the  gravest  of  imputations. 
The  lines  with  which,  not  long  since,  one  of  the  best  English 
observers,  and  one  of  the  most  sincere  English  admirers 
of  American  institutions,  sums  up  his  impressions  of  the 
Senate  are  not  encouraging.  '  So  far  as  a  stranger  can 
judge,'  writes  Mr.  Bryce,  '  there  is  certainly  less  respect 
for  the  Senate  collectively,  and  for  most  of  the  senators  in- 
dividually, now  than  there  was  eighteen  years  ago,  though, 
of  course,  there  are  among  its  members  men  of  an 
ability  and  character  which  would  do  honour  to  any  assem- 
bly,'  ' 

I  have  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  the  constitution  of 
the  American  Senate,  as  it  is,  on  the  whole,  the  most  re- 
markable of  all  modern  instances  of  a  successful  Upper 
Chamber  not  based  on  the  hereditary  principle.  It  is, 
however,  evident  that  much  which  is  distinctive  in  it,  and 
which  has  contributed  most  to  its  peculiar  importance,  is  so 
alien  to  English  ideas  that  it  could  not  be  reproduced.  It  is 
hardly  within  the  range  of  possibility  that  the  foreign 
policy  of  England  and  the  administration  of  the  chief  patron- 
age of  the  Crown  should  be  placed  under  the  direct  control 
and  supervision  of  an  Upper  Chamber  sitting  and  deciding 

Bryce's  American  Commonwealth,  i.  161. 

n  b  2 


372  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

in  secret,  nor  are  there  any  abuses  in  these  departments 
sufficiently  grave  to  require  so  great  a  change. 

It  will  not  be  necessary  to  bestow  more  than  a  cursory 
glance  on  a  few  typical  examples  of  the  Senates,  or  Upper 
Houses,  of  European  countries.1  In  the  French  Republic, 
by  the  constitutional  law  of  1875,  the  Senate  consisted  of  300 
members,  of  whom  seventy-five  were  elected  for  life  by  the  two 
Houses  combined,  and  afterwards,  as  vacancies  occurred,  by 
the  Senate  itself,  while  225  were  elected  for  nine  years  by 
the  departments  and  the  colonies.  In  the  case  of  this  latter 
class  the  American  system  of  indirect  election  is  adopted, 
delegates  from  the  municipal  councils  and  a  certain  number 
of  official  personages  being  the  electors.  A  third  part  of 
this  portion  of  the  Senate  is  renewed  every  third  year,  and 
this  system  of  partial  renewal  is  largely  adopted  in  European 
Senates.  It  will  be  found  in  those  of  Spain,  Belgium,  the 
Netherlands,  Denmark,  and  Roumania,  though  the  periods 
and  proportions  of  renewal  are  somewhat  varied.  In  France, 
as  in  Denmark,  the  Netherlands,  and  Switzerland,  the 
senators  receive  a  small  payment  like  the  members  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies.  The  French  Senate  can  be  con- 
verted into  a  court  of  justice  for  the  trial  of  political 
offences.  It  possesses  the  same  legislative  powers  as  the 
Lower  Chamber,  except  that  it  cannot  originate  money  Bills  ; 
and  it  has  one  special  prerogative— that  the  President  can 
only  dissolve  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  with  its  consent. 
By  a  law  of  1884  an  important  change  was  introduced  into 
its  composition.  The  life  peers  were  not  removed,  but  it 
was  enacted  that  no  more  should  be  created,  and  that  all 
vacancies  in  this  class  should  be  filled  up,  in  the  usual 
manner,  by  departmental  election.  The  whole  body  will 
thus  spring  from  the  same  elective  source. 

In   the   German   Empire,    the  Bundesrath,    or   Federal 
Council,  is  so  unlike  the  usual  type  of  Upper  Chambers  that 

1  Full  particulars  of  these  constitutions  will  be  found  in  the  works  of  Dareste 
and  Demombrynes,  which  I  have  already  quoted.  The  revised  Belgian  Consti- 
tution is  later  than  these  works,  and  is,  of  course,  published  separately.  The 
reader  may  also  consult  Desplaces,  Sinatset  CJiambres  Hautes,  1893  ;  Morizot- 
Thibault,  Droits  des  Chambres  Hautes  en  mature  de  Finances,  1891. 


THE   BUNDESRATH  373 

some  writers  hesitate  to  include  it  in  that  category.  It 
bears  indeed,  in  some  respects,  a  strong  resemblance  to 
a  privy  council  or  a  council  of  ministers.  It  consists  of 
fifty-eight  members,  appointed  by  the  governments  of  the 
different  States  in  the  German  Empire.  In  this  repre- 
sentation, however,  the  American  system  of  giving  equal 
weight  to  all  States  has  not  been  adopted.  The  States  are 
represented  according  to  their  importance,  Prussia  having 
seventeen  voices.  The  Chancellor  of  the  Empire  who  is 
himself  chosen  by  the  Emperor,  presides,  and  it  is  provided 
that  the  presidence  can  only  be  in  the  hands  of  a  represen- 
tative of  Prussia  or  of  Bavaria. 

The  powers  of  this  body  are  very  extensive  and  very 
various.  No  measure  can  become  a  law  of  the  Empire,  no 
treaty  relating  to  the  common  affairs  of  the  Empire  can  be- 
come valid,  without  its  consent.  No  change  in  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  Empire  can  be  effected  if  fourteen  members  of 
the  Federal  Council  oppose  it.  Its  members  have  a  right 
to  appeal  and  speak  in  the  Reichstag,  though  they  cannot 
be  members  of  it.  It  proposes  measures  which  are  to  be 
brought  before  the  Reichstag,  and  new  taxes  are  among 
the  number,  and  it  sends  delegates  into  that  body  to  support 
them.  It  has  great  administrative  powers.  It  establishes 
from  among  its  members  permanent  commissions  to  preside 
over  the  great  departments  of  affairs  which  are  common 
to  the  Empire.  On  each  of  these  commissions  at  least 
four  States  must  be  represented,  besides  the  Emperor ; 
and  there  are  provisions,  which  it  is  not  here  necessary  to 
describe,  for  giving  special  privileges  on  special  subjects  or 
occasions  to  particular  States.  It  has  the  right,  with  the 
consent  of  the  Emperor,  to  dissolve  the  Eeichstag,  and, 
except  in  the  case  of  an  attack  on  German  territory,  its 
assent  is  required  for  a  declaration  of  war.  It  has  the  power 
of  pronouncing  that  States  in  the  Imperial  Confederation 
have  failed  in  fulfilling  their  federal  obligation,  and  it  can 
authorise  the  Emperor  to  coerce  them.  Differences  between 
the  members  of  the  Confederation  that  are  not  provided  for 
by  the  letter  of  the  Constitution,  or  cannot  be  settled  by  legal 


374  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

tribunals,  pass  before  the  Federal  Council,  but  it  does  not 
possess  in  these  cases  a  coercive  authority.  It  has  also  some 
right  of  supervision  over  the  administration  of  justice, 
especially  in  cases  of  socialistic  or  anarchical  agitation.  The 
power  of  the  Emperor  and  the  power  of  the  Federal  Council 
form  together  such  a  formidable  weight  in  the  German 
Empire  that  the  real  influence  of  the  Eeichstag  has  hitherto 
been  much  less  than  that  of  the  popular  House  in  most  con- 
stitutional countries. 

The  constitutions  of  the  States  that  compose  the  German 
Empire  are  very  various,  and  I  will  here  only  refer  briefly  to 
that  of  Prussia,  which  is  the  most  important.  Its  Upper 
House  is  composed  of  several  distinct  classes.  There  are 
members  by  hereditary  right.  There  are  a  small  number 
who  hold  their  seats  by  virtue  of  great  posts  'which  they 
occupy.  There  are  members  who  are  nominated  for  life 
absolutely  by  the  King,  or  on  the  presentation  of  certain 
classes  of  great  proprietors,  of  the  universities,  and  of  the 
principal.towns.  The  whole  body  consists  of  rather  more  than 
300  members,  and  sixty  must  be  present  to  form  a  House. 
The  Prussian  House  of  Lords  can  only  accept  or  reject 
financial  measures  which  are  sent  to  it  from  the  Lower 
House.     It  can  neither  originate  nor  alter  them. 

The  Austrian  Upper  Chamber  is  framed  on  much  the  same 
composite  principle  as  that  of  Prussia.  In  1895  it  consisted 
of  the  princes  of  the  Imperial  Family  who  had  attained 
their  majority,  sixty-eight  hereditary  members,  seventeen 
Catholic  prelates,  and  131  members  named  for  life.1  Dele- 
gations from  Austria  and  Hungary,  equal  in  numbers  and 
elected  in  stated  proportions  from  the  two  Houses  of  the  two 
countries,  sit  alternately  at  Vienna  and  Buda-Pesth,  and 
manage  those  imperial  affairs  which  are  common  to  both 
nations. 

In  Italy  the  composition  of  the  Senate  is  more  simple. 
With  the  exception  of  the  princes  of  the  royal  family,  it 
consists  exclusively  of  members  nominated  for  life  by  the 
King.     No  limit  of  numbers  is  imposed,  but  the  limit  of  age 

1  Almanack  de  Gotha,  1890,  p.  716. 


ITALY,   SPAIN,   AND   SWITZERLAND  375 

is  forty  years,  and  the  members  have  to  be  selected  from 
eight  categories.  They  are  chosen  from  the  clergy,  from 
the  great  scientific  academies,  from  the  Chamber  of  Deputies 
and  provincial  councils,  from  the  high  functionaries  of  the 
State,  from  the  magistracy,  the  army,  and  the  heads  of 
families  who  pay  the  highest  taxes,  and,  finally,  from  those 
who  by  their  services  or  eminent  merits  have  deserved  well 
of  their  country.  The  Italian  Senate  has  all  the  legislative 
powers  of  the  Lower  Chamber,  with  the  exception  of  the 
origination  of  taxes,  and,  like  most  other  senates,  it.  has  the 
right  of  judging  as  a  judicial  body  grave  political  offences. 

In  Spain  the  Senate  is  composed  of  360  members.  Half 
of  these  are  elected  in  different  proportions  by  the  clergy,  the 
learned  societies,  the  universities,  the  provincial  councils, 
and  by  delegates  from  the  most-taxed  commoners.  These 
elected, members  are  renewed  by  halves  every  five  years,  and 
the  sovereign  has  also  the  right  of  dissolving  this  portion  of 
the  Senate.  The  other  half  are  permanent,  and  sit  for  life. 
Some  of  them  sit  by  their  own  right.  To  this  category 
belong  the  chief  grandees  of  Spain  and  a-^  number  of 
important  functionaries  in  Church  and  State.  The  re- 
mainder are  nominated  for  life  by  the  Sovereign,  and  are 
chosen  out  of  particular  classes,  much  in  the  same  way  as  in 
Italy.  The  powers  of  the  Senate  are  substantially  the  same 
as  in  Italy.  In  Spain  no  measure  can  become  law  unless  it 
has  been  voted  for  by  a  majority  of  all  the  members  who 
constitute  each  Chamber. 

In  Switzerland  the  American  system  is  adopted  of  having 
one  Chamber,  elected  by  the  population  in  proportion  to  its 
numbers,  while  the  other  Chamber  is  elected  by  the  different 
cantons,  each  canton  being  equally  represented  by  two 
deputies.1  The  respective  provinces  of  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment and  of  the  governments  of  the  cantons  are  minutely 
traced  by  the  Constitution,  but  the  two  Federal  Assemblies 
have  almost  equal,  though  in  some  respects  slightly  differing, 
powers,  and,  as  I  have  already  noticed,  neither  has  any  special 

1  In  some  cases  a  canton  has  been  split  into  two,  and  in  these  cases  each 
half  canton  sends  one  member. 


376  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

privilege  in  matters  of  taxation.  A  curious  feature  of  the 
Council  of  States  is,  that  there  is  no  uniformity  in  the 
election  of  its  members  and  in  the  duration  of  their  mandate. 
Each  canton  has  a  right  to  send  two  deputies,  but  it  may 
determine  for  itself  the  mode  of  their  election  and  the  time 
for  which  they  are  to  sit.  Sometimes  these  deputies  are 
chosen  by  the  legislative  bodies  of  the  cantons,  and  some- 
times by  direct  popular  election,  and  they  are  generally 
chosen  for  either  one  year  or  three  years.  The  two 
Chambers  usually  sit  separately,  but  for  some  purposes  they 
deliberate  together,  and  in  this  case,  in  the  event  of  a 
difference,  the  greatly  superior  numbers  in  the  more  popular 
House  give  it  an  overwhelming  preponderance.  The  two 
Houses  sitting  together  choose  the  seven  members  of  the 
Federal  Council,  which  is  the  executive  Government  of  the 
Confederation,  and  they  select,  out  of  the  seven  members, 
the  two  who  are  to  hold  during  the  ensuing  year  the 
position  of  President  and  Vice-President  of  the  Swiss 
Republic.  The  whole  position  of  the  legislative  bodies  in 
Switzerland  is  materially  lowered  by  the  Referendum,  or 
power  of  appealing  directly  to  a  popular  vote  upon  proposed 
measures,  which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  the  most 
remarkable  feature  in  the  Swiss  Republic. 

In  the  Netherlands  the  Upper  Chamber  is  elected  by 
the  provincial  States,  and  its  members  sit  for  nine  years,  with 
a  partial  renewal  every  three  years.  They  must  have  a 
certain  amount  of  property,  which  is  measured  by  the  taxa- 
tion they  pay.  By  a  singular,  and,  as  it  seems  to  me,  most 
unwise  provision,  the  Upper  Chamber  has  no  right  either  of 
initiating  or  of  amending  laws;  and  it  therefore  cannot 
exercise  that  influence  of  modification  or  compromise  which 
is  the  most  valuable  function  of  most  Upper  Houses.  Its 
sole  power  in  legislation  is  to  accept  or  reject  in  their  totality 
the  measures  that  have  been  voted  by  the  other  Chamber. 
It  does  not  possess  the  power,  which  most  Senates  possess, 
of  trying  ministers  who  are  impeached  by  the  Lower 
Chamber.  This  right  of  trial  belongs  to  the  High  Court  of 
Justice ;  but  whenever  there  is  a  vacancy  in  that  court  the 


THE   NETHERLANDS   AND   BELGIUM  ^jy 

Upper  Chamber  has  the  right  of  submitting  to  the  King  a 
list  of  five  candidates,  and  the  King  is  bound  to  nominate 
one  of  them.  In  the  reform  of  the  Constitution  which  took 
place  in  1887,  the  number  of  members  in  the  Upper  Chamber 
was  increased  from  thirty-nine  to  fifty,  and  that  in  the 
Lower  House  from  eighty-six  to  100. 

In  Belgium,  by  the  Constitution  of  1831  the  Senate  was 
elected  in  a  manner  which  is  quite  different  from  those  I 
have  hitherto  described,  and  which  is  pronounced  by  the 
best  Belgian  writer  on  constitutions  to  be  '  detestable.' x  It 
was  elected  directly,  and  on  the  basis  of  mere  numbers,  by 
the  same  electors  as  the  House  of  Bepresentatives.  The 
principal  differences  between  the  two  Houses  were,  that  the 
Senate  was  only  half  as  large  a  body  as  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  ;  that  it  was  elected  for  eight  instead  of  four  years  ; 
that  its  members  were  unpaid,  and  that  they  could  only  be 
selected  from  the  larger  taxpayers  of  the  country.  The 
Senate  is  renewed  by  halves  every  four  years ;  but  the  King 
has  also  the  power  of  dissolving  it,  either  separately,  or  con- 
jointly with  the  other  Chamber.  It  has  the  same  legislative 
powers  as  the  other  House,  except  that  financial  measures 
and  measures  relating  to  the  contingent  of  the  army  must  be 
first  voted  by  the  Lower  House.  It  has  no  judicial  functions, 
these  being  reserved  exclusively  for  the  regular  tribunals. 
By  the  Constitution  of  1893  great  changes  have  been  made 
in  the  composition  of  the  Senate,  as  well  as  of  the  Lower 
House.  A  number  of  senators  equalling  half  the  number  of 
the  members  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  are  now  directly 
elected  by  the  voters  in  the  provinces,  in  proportion  to  their 
population,  and  with  the  provision  that  the  electors  must  be 
thirty  years  old.  But,  in  addition  to  these,  there  is  another 
class,  chosen  by  the  provincial  councils,  each  council  return- 
ing from  two  to  four  senators,  according  to  the  population  of 
the  province  it  represents.  The  first  of  these  two  classes  of 
senators  must  be  chosen  from  among  citizens  who  pay  a 
certain  amount  of  direct  taxation.  For  the  second  class  no 
pecuniary  qualification  is  required.  The  sons  of  the  sove- 
1  Laveleye,  Le  Gouvernement  dans  la  Democratic,  ii.  455. 


3J&  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

reign,  or,  if  he  has  no  sons,  the  Belgian  princes  who  come  next 
in  the  order  of  succession,  are  senators  in  their  own  right. 

The  foregoing  examples  will  be  sufficient  to  illustrate  the 
different  manners  in  which  the  problem  of  providing  an 
efficient  Upper  Chamber  can  be  met.  On  the  whole,  these 
Chambers  in  the  continental  constitutions  have  worked  well, 
though  they  have  in  general  not  yet  had  a  very  long  experi- 
ence, and  most  of  them — especially  those  of  a  composite 
character — have  included  a  large  proportion  of  the  chief 
elements  of  weight  and  ability  in  their  respective  countries. 
In  the  colonial  constitutions  under  the  British  Crown,  where 
responsible  Governments  have  been  established,  the  usual  type 
has  been  one  elective  and  popular  Chamber  and  a  smaller 
Chamber,  consisting  of  members  who  are  either  nominated  for 
life  directly  by  the  Crown,  or  who  sit  by  virtue  of  high  offices 
to  which  they  have  been  appointed  by  the  Crown,  or,  more 
frequently,  of  a  combination  of  both  classes.  In  some  cases, 
however,  election  and  nomination  are  mixed,  and  in  others 
the  Upper  House  is  completely  elective,  but  subject  to  a 
property  qualification  for  the  electors  or  members,  or  for  both. 
There  are  no  less  than  seventeen  colonies  under  the  British 
Crown  with  responsible  governments.  Many  of  them  are  so 
small  that  inferences  drawn  from  them  are  scarcely  applicable 
to  a  great  country,  but  a  few  of  the  Senates  of  the  larger 
colonies  may  be  briefly  sketched.1 

Thus,  in  the  Dominion  Parliament  of  the  great  Canadian 
confederation  the  Senate  consists  of  eighty-one  members, 
nominated  for  life  by  the  Governor-General  under  the  great 
seal  of  Canada,  and  selected  in  stated  proportions  from  the 
different  provinces  in  the  confederation.  Each  senator  must 
be  at  least  thirty  years  old.  He  must  have  property  to  the 
value  of  four  thousand  dollars  and  a  residence  in  the  province 
which  he  represents,  and  he  receives  a  payment  of  one 
thousand  dollars  a  year.  Each  province  also  has  its  own 
separate  Parliament,  but  they  are  not  all  constructed  on  the 
same  type. 

1  An  excellent  summary  will  be  found  in  a  little  work  of  Mr.  Arthur  Mills, 
called  Colonial  Constitutions,  1891.     See,  too,  Martin's  Statesman's  Yearbook. 


COLONIAL   SENATES  379 

In  Newfoundland  there  is  an  extremely  democratic  con- 
stitution, for  both  the  Legislative  Council  and  the  House  of 
Assembly  are  elected  by  manhood  suffrage,  though  a  property 
qualification  is  retained  for  the  members. 

In  Africa  the  Senate  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  consists 
of  twenty-two  members,  elected  for  ten  years,  and  presided 
over  by  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  colony.  There  is  a  property 
qualification  both  for  electors  and  members,  and  the  members 
of  both  Houses  are  paid.  Full  responsible  government  in 
this  colony  only  exists  since  1872.  The  neighbouring  colony 
of  Natal  was  made  a  distinct  colony  in  1856.  Its  Legisla- 
tive Council  is  formed  of  five  official  and  two  nominated 
members,  together  with  twenty-three  members  who  are 
elected  for  four  years  by  electors  possessing  a  certain  property 
qualification.  Vast  territories  lie  outside  these  colonies, 
which  are  administered  by  commissioners  ;  while  the  West 
African  dependencies,  with  their  large  native  and  almost 
infinitesimal  European  populations,  and  the  more  important 
islands  adjacent  to  Africa,  are  managed  by  governors,  with 
the  assistance  of  councils. 

In  the  numerous  islands  or  island  groups  which  are  subject 
to  the  British  Crown  there  is  much  variety  of  constitution. 
Thus,  in  the  Bahamas,  in  Barbadoes,  and  in  the  Bermudas, 
we  find  the  threefold  constitution  consisting  of  a  governor,  a 
popular  elected  Assembly,  and  a  Legislative  Council  nominated 
by  the  Crown.  In  the  Leeward  Islands,  which  were  combined 
into  a  single  Government  in  1882,  the  Federal  Government 
consists  of  a  governor  and  a  Legislative  Council  of  ten 
nominated  and  ten  elected  members,  representing  the  different 
islands.  In  Jamaica  there  is  now  no  representative  Assembly, 
but  the  governor  is  aided  by  a  Privy  Council  and  a  Legisla- 
tive Council  of  eighteen  members,  of  whom  four  arc  official , 
five  nominated  by  the  governor,  and  nine  elected  by  colonists 
who  pay  a  certain  level  of  taxation.  It  is  specially  provided 
in  the  Constitution  that  six  of  the  elected  members  can,  if 
unanimous,  carry  any  financial  measure.  Most  of  the  small 
islands  are  administered  by  a  governor  and  a  Legislative 
Council  consisting  partly  of  official  members  and  partly  of 


2,8o  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

members  nominated  by  the  Crown.  It  has  been  remarked 
that  there  is  a  strong  tendency  of  opinion  in  the  island 
colonies  hostile  to  representative  institutions,  and  in  favour 
of  more  concentrated  government  honestly  administered. 
Thus,  in  Grenada  and  St.  Vincent  representative  institutions 
were  abolished  at  the  request  of  the  people  in  1876  and  1877, 
and  a  form  of  government  by  a  governor  and  Legislative 
Council,  partly  official  and  partly  unofficial,  has  been  adopted. 
A  very  similar  change  had  been  effected,  a  few  years  earlier, 
in  several  of  the  islands  which  formed  part  of  the  Leeward 
Islands.  Jamaica,  in  1866,  surrendered  a  representative 
Constitution  that  had  existed  for  200  years,  and  accepted  a  far 
less  democratic  Constitution  ;  and  on  the  coast  of  Central 
America  representative  institutions,  after  an  experience  of 
seventeen  years,  were  abolished  in  British  Honduras  in 
1870. 

In  Australia  the  colonial  governments  have  passed 
through  several  phases,  and  questions  relating  to  the  for- 
mation of  an  Upper  Chamber,  its  power  over  money  Bills, 
and  its  relations  to  the  governor  and  the  Lower  House,  have 
been  fiercely  debated,  and  usually  argued  chiefly  upon  British 
precedents.  It  is  here  only  necessary  to  state  the  nature  of 
the  Upper  Council  in  each  colony.  In  New  South  Wales 
the  Legislative  Council  is  nominated  for  life  by  the  governor. 
The  minimum  number  is  fixed  at  twenty-one ;  but  this  number 
has  been  largely  exceeded,  and  there  was  one  unsuccess- 
ful attempt,  in  the  premiership  of  Sir  Charles  Cowper  in  1861, 
to  overbear  the  Council  by  nominating  a  large  number  of 
members  in  order  to  win  a  majority.  It  was  strongly  con- 
demned, both  by  public  opinion  in  the  colony  and  by  the 
authorities  in  England.1  Four-fifths  of  the  members  must  be 
persons  not  holding  any  paid  office  under  the  Crown,  but  this 
is  not  held  to  include  officers  in  the  sea  and  land  forces  or 
retired  officers  on  pension.2  In  Queensland  the  Legislative 
Council  is  formed  on  the  same  principle   of   nomination  ; 

1  See  Coghlan's  Wealth  and  Progress  of  New  South  Wales,  p.  500.   Eusden's 
History  of  Australia,  iii.  258-62. 

2  Coghlan,  p.  501. 


COLONIAL    SENATES — HEREDITY  38  I 

in  Victoria,  in  South  Australia,  in  Western  Australia,  and 
in  Tasmania,  it  is  an  elective  body,  directly  elected  for  limited 
periods,  but  usually  under  a  special  property  qualification. 
In  New  Zealand  the  less  democratic  method  is  adopted,  and 
the  Legislative  Council  consists  of  members  nominated  by 
the  governor.  Before  1891  they  were  appointed  for  life  ;  but 
an  Act  of  that  year  made  all  new  appointments  tenable  for 
seven  years  only,  though  the  councillors  may  be  reappointed.1 

If  we  turn  now  from  these  various  constitutions  to  our 
own,  we  shall  find,  I  think,  a  very  general  agreement  among 
serious  political  thinkers  that  it  would  be  an  extreme  mis- 
fortune if  the  upper,  or  revising,  Chamber  in  the  Legislature 
were  abolished,  and  an  agreement,  which,  if  less  general,  is 
still  very  wide,  that  it  must,  in  some  not  far  distant  day, 
be  materially  altered.  For  my  own  part,  I  should  consider 
it  a  misfortune  if  the  hereditary  element,  of  which  it  is  now 
mainly  composed,  were  not  still  largely  represented  in  it. 
The  peerage  occupies  a  vast  place  in  English  history  and 
tradition.  It  has  a  widespread  influence  and  an  indis- 
putable popularity ;  and,  as  I  have  endeavoured  to  show,  its 
members  possess  in  a  high  degree  some  of  the  qualities  and 
capacities  that  are  most  useful  in  the  government  of  men. 
Their  political  prominence  not  only  represents,  but  also 
sustains  and  strengthens,  a  connection  between  the  upper 
classes  of  the  country  and  political  life,  to  which  England 
owes  very  much,  and  in  an  age  as  democratic  as  our  own  it 
may  qualify  some  evils,  and  can  produce  no  danger. 

It  must  also  be  remembered  that,  without  resorting  to 
revolutionary  measures,  no  reform  of  the  House  of  Lords 
can  be  carried  without  its  own  assent,  and  it  is  scarcely 
within  the  limits  of  possibility  that  it  would  sanction  a  law 
which  extinguished  its  hereditary  element.  To  carry  such 
a  measure  in  spite  of  it  would  probably  prove  a  long  and 
most  serious  task.  It  has  become  a  fashion  of  late  years,  at 
times  when  the  House  does,  or  threatens  to  do,  something 
which  is  thought  unpopular  to  organise  great  London 
demonstrations   against   it.     Some   thousands   of  men  and 

1  New  Zealand  Yearbook,  1894,  p.  14. 


382  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

women,  largely  swollen  by  mere  holiday-seekers,  and  repre- 
senting at  most  a  very  doubtful  voting  preponderance  in 
two  or  three  London  constituencies,  are  accustomed  to 
assemble  in  Hyde  Park,  and  by  the  mouth  of  men  who,  for 
the  most  part,  would  be  unable  to  find  a  single  constituency 
that  would  send  them  into  Parliament,  to  proclaim  them- 
selves the  voice  of  the  nation,  and  hurl  defiance  at  the 
Upper  House.  In  England  these  things  have  little  weight. 
In  France  they  have  been  more  serious,  for  more  than  one 
revolution,  for  which  the  immense  majority  of  the  French 
people  had  never  wished,  has  been  accomplished  by  the 
violence  of  a  Paris  mob.  There  can,  however,  be  little 
doubt  that,  if  a  proposal  for  the  violent  destruction  of  the 
House  of  Lords  were  brought  authoritatively  before  the 
country,  that  House  would  find  in  the  great  silent  classes 
of  the  nation  a  reserve  of  power  that  would  prove  very 
formidable.  Nor  is  it  possible  to  predict  what  results  and 
what  reactions  would  ensue  if  once  the  barriers  of  law  were 
broken  down,  and  the  torrent  of  revolutionary  change  let 
loose.  It  is  not  likely  that  true  liberty  would  gain  by  the 
struggle. 

The  British  aristocracy,  as  we  have  seen,  contains  a  large 
number  of  members  who  possess  every  moral  and  intellectual 
quality  that  is  needed  for  a  good  legislator.  It  includes 
also  many  members  who  have  neither  the  tastes,  nor  the 
knowledge,  nor  the  capacity  of  legislators,  and  whose  pre- 
sence in  the  House  of  Lords  probably  tends  more  than  any 
other  single  circumstance  to  discredit  it  in  the  country. 
The  obvious  remedy  is,  that  the  whole  peerage  should 
elect  a  certain  number  of  their  members  to  represent  them. 
Eighty  or  100  peers  returned  in  this  way  to  the  Upper 
House  would  form  a  body  of  men  of  commanding  influence 
.and  of  the  highest  legislative  capacity.  The  Irish  and  Scotch 
peerages  already  furnish  examples  of  peers  of  the  realm 
who  are  not  members  of  the  Upper  House,  though  they  are 
eligible  for  that  position.  It  is  much  to  be  desired  that 
this  class  should  be  increased.  Among  other  advantages, 
it  would  meet  the  case  of  men  who,  having  attained  great 


REFORMS  OF  THE  PEERAGE  383 

eminence,  or  performed  great  services  in  fields  very  widely 
removed  from  politics,  are  deserving  of  the  highest  dignity 
the  State  can  bestow,  but  who  have  no  natural  aptitude  for 
the  task  of  a  legislator.  On  the  whole,  few  better  con- 
stituencies can  be  conceived  than  the  whole  body  of  the 
peerage ;  but  the  elected  peers  should  be  chosen  by  a 
cumulative  vote,  or  by  some  other  method  which  would 
secure  the  proportionate  representation  of  all  shades  of 
opinion,  and  not,  as  is  now  the  case  in  Ireland  and  Scotland, 
by  a  method  that  practically  extinguishes  minorities.  Those 
peers  who  were  not  elected,  or  who  did  not  wish  to  be 
elected,  to  the  Upper  House  should  have  the  right  of  standing 
like  other  men  for  the  Lower  one. 

To  these  ought,  I  think,  to  be  added  a  number  of  life  peers 
limited  by  statute.  Some  of  them  might  be  what  are  called 
'  official  peerages.'  Great  positions  of  dignity  or  responsi- 
bility, which  are  rarely  attained  without  exceptional  ability 
and  experience,  which  make  men  the  natural  and  official 
representatives  of  large  classes,  and  bring  them  into  close 
touch  with  their  interests,  sentiments,  and  needs,  might 
well  carry  with  them  the  privilege  of  a  seat  in  the  Upper 
House.  But,  in  addition  to  these,  the  Crown  should  have 
the  power  of  conferring  life  peerages  on  men  who,  in  many 
different  walks,  are  eminently  distinguished  by  their  genius, 
knowledge,  or  services.  In  this  way  it  would  be  possible 
vastly  to  increase  both  the  influence  and  the  efficiency  of 
the  Upper  House,  and  to  bring  into  it  men  who  do  not 
possess  the  fortunes  that  are  generally  supposed  to  be 
needed  for  an  hereditary  peerage.  The  life  peerages  that  are 
already  possessed  by  the  bishops  and  by  some  law  lords 
furnish  a  precedent. 

Whether  beyond  the  limits  I  have  stated,  the  representa- 
tive principle  should  be  introduced  into  the  British  Upper 
House  is  a  more  difficult  question.  In  comparing  England 
with  the  Colonies,  it  must  always  be  remembered  that  a 
genuine  aristocracy  is  a  thing  which  the  Colonies  do  not 
possess,  and  which  it  is  not  possible  to  extemporise.  It 
should  be  remembered,  too,  that  a  new  country,  where  few 


384  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

traditions  have  been  formed,  where  all  the  conditions  of  life 
and  property  and  class  relations  are  very  simple,  and  where 
the  task  of  legislation  is  restricted  to  a  narrow  sphere,  may 
be  well  governed  under  constitutions  that  would  be  very 
unsuited  to  a  highly  complex  and  artificial  society,  which  is 
itself  the  centre  of  a  vast  and  most  heterogeneous  empire. 
American  experience  shows  that  the  system  of  double,  or 
indirect  election,  cannot  retain  its  distinctive  merits  in  times 
or  countries  where  party  spirit  runs  very  high.  The  men 
who  are  elected  by  this  method  simply  represent  the  opinions 
of  a  party  majority  in  the  electing  body,  and  are  designated 
by  the  organisation  by  which  that  electing  body  is  created. 

Some  statesmen  of  considerable  authority  would  vest 
county  councils  and  municipalities  with  large  powers  of 
electing  members  to  the  Upper  House.  Whether  these  for 
the  most  part  very  recently  constructed  bodies  are  as  yet  so 
conspicuous  for  their  influence  or  their  judicial  wisdom  that 
they  could  be  safely  entrusted  with  this  task  seems  to  me  very 
doubtful.  If  the  projects  which  are  now  vaguely  agitated 
for  breaking  up  the  United  Kingdom  into  a  federation  should 
ever  in  any  form  or  measure  be  accomplished,  something- 
might  be  done  to  mitigate  the  weakness  and  the  danger  that 
such  a  disintegration  would  inevitably  produce,  by  receiving 
in  the  Upper  House  the  representatives  of  local  legislatures  ; 
and  a  similar  system  might  with  great  advantage  be  ex- 
tended to  the  distant  parts  of  the  Empire.  Distant  colonies, 
which  lie  wholly  outside  the  range  of  English  party  politics, 
and  have  no  English  party  objects  to  attain,  would  almost 
certainly  send  to  an  Upper  House  men  of  superior  character 
and  abilities,  and  their  presence  might  have  some  real  effect 
in  strengthening  the  ties  that  bind  the  Empire  together. 

It  is  impossible  to  predict  what  form  public  opinion  on 
these  matters  may  assume.  Some  pressing  party  interest, 
or  passion,  or  personal  ambition,  will  probably  in  the  last 
issue  determine  its  course,  unless  timely  wisdom  in  dealing 
with  this  momentous  question  is  displayed  by  the  true  lovers 
of  the  Constitution. 

Some  other  and  minor  reforms  of  the  House  of  Lords 


A   LIMITED   VETO  385 

seem  also  to  be  loudly  called  for.  One  of  these  is  the  con- 
version of  an  unlimited  into  a  limited  veto.  A  power  of 
preventing  for  all  time  measures  which  both  the  House  of 
Commons  and  the  constituencies  desire  should  not  be  lodged 
with  any  non-elected  legislative  body,  and  an  unlimited 
creation  of  peers  is  the  only  means  which  the  Constitution 
provides  for  overcoming  the  resistance  of  the  House  of 
Lords.  That  House,  in  fact,  never  attempts  to  exert  its  full 
theoretical  power  on  any  large  question,  though  there  have 
been  occasional  and  deplorable  instances  of  its  rejecting, 
through  long  successions  of  Parliaments,  in  spite  of  constant 
majorities  in  the  Lower  House,  reforms  affecting  small  classes 
of  people  and  exciting  no  widespread  interest.  But  on 
great  questions,  and  on  questions  involving  party  issues,  this 
is  never  done  ;  and  the  very  magnitude  of  the  power  theoreti- 
cally vested  in  the  House  of  Lords  is  an  obstacle  to  its 
moderate  exercise.  A  veto  limited  and  defined  by  law  would 
be  more  fearlessly  exercised  and  more  generally  accepted. 
The  English  system  of  veto  resembles  in  some  respects  the 
English  system  of  parliamentary  impeachment,  which,  ex- 
tending to  life,  liberty,  and  the  confiscation  of  goods,  is  a 
weapon  of  such  tremendous  force  that  it  has  become  com- 
pletely obsolete ;  while  in  America,  impeachment,  carrying 
only  very  moderate  penalties,  is  sometimes,  though  rarely, 
employed. 

It  is  well  understood  that,  on  all  great  questions,  the  veto 
of  the  House  of  Lords  is  now  merely  suspensory,  securing 
that  no  important  measure  can  be  carried  which  does  not 
represent  the  distinct,  the  deliberate,  the  decided  opinion  of 
the  nation. '  When  a  policy  which  the  House  of  Commons  has 
adopted  and  the  House  of  Lords  rejected  has  been  clearly 
ratified  by  the  nation,  voting  on  a  distinct  issue,  and  by  con- 
siderable and  sustained  majorities,  the  House  of  Lords 
invariably  accepts  it.  But  the  importance  of  the  function  it 
exercises  in  delaying  great  changes  until  this  sanction  has 
been  obtained  cafi  hardly  be  overestimated.  As  I  have 
already  said,  many  measures  pass  through  the  House  of 
Commons  which  the  constituencies  never  desired,  or  even 
vol  .  1.  co 


386  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY 

considered,  because  they  were  proposed  by  ministers  who, 
on  totally  different  questions,  had  obtained  a  parliamen- 
tary majority.  Other  measures  are  the  result  of  transient 
excitement  arising  from  some  transient  cause.  Others  are 
carried,  in  the  face  of  great  opposition,  by  a  bare,  or 
perhaps  languid,  divided,  and  dwindling  majority.  Other 
measures  are  accepted,  not  because  they  are  desired,  but 
because  they  cannot  be  rejected  without  overthrowing  a 
ministry. 

With  the  increasing  influence  of  ignorance  in  the  electo- 
rate, and  the  rapid  disintegration  of  Parliaments  into  inde- 
pendent groups,  the  necessity  of  a  strong  revising  tribunal, 
exercising  a  suspensory  veto,  becomes  continually  greater. 
It  is  extremely  desirable  that  the  negative  of  the  House  of 
Lords  should  at  least  extend  over  one  Parliament,  so  that 
the  particular  questions  at  issue  should  be  brought  directly 
before  the  electors.  It  would  also  be  very  desirable  that 
it  should  be  finally  overcome,  not  by  a  bare  majority  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  but  by  a  majority  of  at  least  two- 
thirds. 

The  adoption  of  provisions  making  such  majorities  neces- 
sary in  many  branches  of  legislation  and  administration  would 
furnish  a  powerful  safeguard  against  revolutionary  or  tyranni- 
cal measures.  In  America  a  two-thirds  majority  must  exist 
in  both  Houses  in  order  to  overcome  the  veto  of  the  Presi- 
dent ;  and  we  have  already  seen  the  still  stronger  precautions 
that  are  taken  in  the  American  Constitution  against  parlia- 
mentary attacks  on  the  Constitution,  on  contract,  property, 
or  individual  freedom.  In  theory  the  unlimited  power  of 
veto  vested  in  the  House  of  Lords  forms  a  sufficient  barrier 
against  such  attacks.  In  practice  this  protection  has  become 
far  from  sufficient.  Without  the  existence  of  a  real  Consti- 
tution, limiting  parliamentary  powers,  and  protected,  as  in 
America,  by  a  Supreme  Court,  England  will  never  possess, 
in  these  vital  points,  the  security  which  exists  beyond  the 
Atlantic.  Perhaps  the  best  protection  that  could  be  obtained 
without  such  a  fundamental  reorganisation  would  be  a  law 
providing   that   no   measure  should  be  carried  against  the 


MINISTERS   IN   BOTH   HOUSES  387 

resistance  of  the  Upper  House  unless  it  had  been  adopted 
by  two  successive  Houses  of  Commons,  and  by  majorities  of 
at  least  two-thirds. 

Such  a  change  would,  in  theory,  diminish  the  powers  of 
the  House  of  Lords.  In  practice  it  would,  I  believe,  con- 
siderably increase  them  ;  and,  if  it  were  accompanied  by 
reforms  such  as  I  have  indicated,  it  would  render  the  House 
very  powerful  for  good.  In  the  days  when  government  was 
mainly  in  the  hands  of  classes  who  were  largely  influenced 
by  traditions,  precedents,  and  the  spirit  of  compromise,  tacit 
understandings,  unrecognised  by  law,  were  sufficient  to  define 
the  provinces,  to  support,  and  at  the  same  time  to  limit,  the 
powers  of  the  different  parts  of  the  Constitution.  Power 
in  England  has  now  passed  into  other  hands ;  another  spirit 
prevails,  and  it  is  very  necessary  that  every  function  and 
capacity  should  be  clearly  recognised  and  accurately  limited 
by  law. 

Another  reform  which  would,  I  think,  be  very  advisable 
would  be  that  in  England,  as  in  most  continental  countries, 
Cabinet  ministers  should  have  the  right  of  opposing  or 
defending  their  measures  in  both  Houses,  though  their 
right  of  voting  should  be  restricted  to  the  House  to  which 
they  belong.  The  great  evil  of  the  present  system  is 
especially  felt  when  the  most  powerful  minister  is  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  while  the  decisive  verdict  on  his  policy  lies 
with  the  Commons.  A  policy  explained  by  subordinates  or 
delegates  has  never  the  same  weight  of  authority  as  when 
it  is  expounded  by  the  principal.  It  is  a  manifest  defect  in 
the  Constitution  that  when  the  existence  of  a  ministry  depends 
on  a  House  of  Commons  decision  on  some  question  of 
foreign  policy,  such  a  minister  as  Lord  Salisbury  or  Lord 
Eosebery  should  be  excluded.  It  is  also  a  great  evil  that  a 
Prime  Minister,  when  forming  his  ministry,  should  be 
restricted  in  his  choice  of  the  men  who  arc  to  fill  posts  of 
immense  responsibility,  by  a  consideration  of  the  House  to 
which  they  belong.  A  change  which  made  such  a  restriction 
unnecessary  would  certainly  add  to  the  efficiency  of  minis- 
tries, and  its  benefits  would  far  outweigh  its  disadvantages. 

c  c  2 


388  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

These  disadvantages  appear  to  be  a  slight  increase  of  the 
labour  thrown  on  Cabinet  ministers,  and  an  unbalanced 
increase  of  the  debating  (though  not  voting)  powers  of  the 
ministry,  arising  from  the  fact  that  the  chief  ministers 
would  have  the  power  of  speaking  in  two  Houses,  while  the 
leaders  of  the  Opposition  would  be  confined  to  one.1  The 
appearance,  however,  of  a  Cabinet  minister  in  the  House  to 
which  he  did  not  belong  ought,  I  think,  to  be  optional,  and 
not  obligatory. 

The  last  reform  I  would  suggest  would  be  some  relaxa- 
tion of  the  present  rule  by  which  all  the  stages  through 
which  a  measure  has  passed  are  lost  if  the  measure  is  not 
completed  in  a  single  session.  A  complete  abolition  of  this 
rule,  which  would  enable  the  House  of  Commons  to  take  up 
at  the  beginning  of  a  session  the  measures  which  were  left 
unfinished  in  the  last,  at  the  stages  which  they  had  then 
reached,  provided  there  had  been  no  dissolution  in  the 
interval,  has  been  often  advocated.  It  has  been  argued  that 
the  present  system  involves  an  enormous  waste  of  time  and 
power,  that  this  waste  becomes  continually  more  serious  with 
the  increase  of  public  business,  that  it  gives  a  great  encourage- 
ment to  deliberate  obstruction.  Few  things,  indeed,  seem 
more  absurd  than  that  a  measure  which  has  been  thoroughly 
discussed  and  repeatedly  sanctioned  by  the  House  of  Com- 
mons should  be  lost  at  its  last  stage,  not  because  of  any 
parliamentary  defeat,  but  simply  because  the  House,  by 
mere  pressure  of  business,  has  been  unable  to  complete  its 
work  before  it  is  prorogued  for  its  holiday,  and  that  in  the 
ensuing  session  the  whole  ground  has  to  be-4;rodden  again 
by  the  same  men.  Such  is  the  method  of  doing  business 
which  is  adopted  by  one  of  the  busiest,  and  also  one  of  the  most 
loquacious,  assemblies  in  the  world.  In  most  foreign  legisla- 
tures a  different  method  is  pursued.  -  In  Belgium,  Denmark, 
France,  Greece,  the  Netherlands,  Portugal,  Spain,  Sweden, 
Norway,  and  the  United  States,  unfinished  legislation  may 
be  taken  up  in  the  following  session    in  the  stage  in  which 

1  It  would  be,  of  course,  possible   to  extend  the  privilege  to  members  of 
either  House  who  had  held  Cabinet  rank. 


POSTPONED   LEGISLATION  389 

it  was  left  when  the  prorogation  took  place.1  Yet  in  none 
of  these  countries,  with  the  possible  exception  of  America, 
is  the  pressure  of  business  as  great  as  in  the  British 
Parliament.2 

There  are,  however,  real  arguments  in  favour  of  the 
British  system.  It  enables  the  House  of  Commons  easily 
to  get  rid  of  many  proposals  which  it  does  not  consider  ripe 
or  fit  for  immediate  legislation,  but  which  for  various  reasons 
it  does  not  wish  to  meet  with  a  direct  negative.  There  is  also 
another  consideration,  which  I  have  already  indicated,  and 
which,  though  it  is  not  often  openly  expressed,  is,  I  believe, 
widely  felt.  It  is,  that  the  House  of  Commons,  as  it  is  at 
present  constituted,  with  its  practically  unlimited  powers, 
may  become,  under  the  direction  of  a  rash  or  unscrupulous 
minister,  so  great  an  evil  and  danger  in  the  State  that  what- 
ever seriously  clogs  the  wheels  of  the  machine  is  rather  an 
advantage  than  a  disadvantage.  Great  as  is  the  scandal 
arising  from  deliberate  obstruction  or  the  unbridled  license 
of  loquacious  vanity ;  great  as  are  the  evils  of  the  postpone- 
ment of  much  necessary  legislation,  or  the  hasty  and 
perfunctory  discharge  of  duties  which  do  not  lend  themselves 
to  party  exigencies,  these  things,  in  the  eyes  of  many,  are 
not  too  high  a  price  to  pay  for  an  exemption  from  the 
calamities  that  would  follow,  if  a  party  majority  and  an 
ambitious  minister  could  swiftly  do  their  will  in  tearing  to 
pieces  the  old  institutions  and  settled  social  conditions  of  the 
country,  in  order  to  build  up  their  own  power  on  their  ruin. 
As  long  as  England  is  governed  under  its  present  system 
'  the  declining  efficiency  of  Parliament '  will  be  watched  by 
many  patriotic  men  with  no  unmingled  regret.  The  down- 
ward progress  is  at  least  a  slow  one.  In  spite  of  tht- 
destruction  of  all  the  balances  and  restrictions  of  the 
Constitution,  the  men  who  desire  to  revolutionise  find  many 

1  See  Dickinson's  Constitution  and  Procedure  of  Foreign  Parliaments, 
2nd  ed.,  p.  9. 

-  One  result  of  this  system  is  the  great  obstacle  it  throws  in  the  way  of 
legislation  initiated  by  private  members.  Mr.  Dickinson  has  given  some  curious 
statistibs  about  the  fate  of  public  Bills  introduced  by  private  members  in  five 
years,  from  1884  to  1889 ;  900  were  introduced,  110  only  became  law  (p.  8). 


390  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

obstacles  in  their  way,  and  the  men  who,  in  order  to  win 
votes  in  their  constituencies,  have  pledged  themselves  to 
revolutionise,  without  wishing  to  do  so,  find  easy  pretexts  for 
evading  their  promises. 

No  serious  evil,  however,  I  think,  would  follow  if  it 
were  provided  that,  when  a  measure  had  passed  through  all 
its  stages  in  the  Commons,  its  consideration  in  the  Lords, 
and  the  consideration  of  the  Lords'  amendments  in  the 
Commons,  might  be  adjourned  to,  or  extended  over,  the 
ensuing  session.  The  detailed  revision  and  amendment  of 
elaborate  measures,  which  is  one  of  the  most  useful  and  un- 
contested duties  of  an  Upper  House,  cannot  be  properly 
performed  when  those  measures  are  only  sent  up  to  it  at  the 
very  end  of  a  session,  and  have  to  be  hurried  through  all 
their  stages  in  a  few  days.  Careful  and  well-considered 
legislation  is,  after  all,  the  great  end  of  a  legislative  body ; 
and  it  would  be  much  more  fully  attained  in  England  if  the 
consideration  of  laws,  which  is  unduly  protracted  in  one 
House,  were  not  unduly  hurried  in  the  other. 


THE   BALANCE   OF  POWER  391 


CHAPTER   V 

NATIONALITIES 

The  effects  of  democracy  on  the  liberty  of  the  world  are  not 
only  to  be  traced  in  the  changes  that  are  passing  over  the 
governments  and  constitutions  of  the  different  nations,  and 
in  the  wide  fields  of  religious,  intellectual,  social,  and 
industrial  life ;  they  are  also  powerfully  felt  in  international 
arrangements,  and  especially  in  the  growth  of  a  doctrine  of 
nationalities  as  the  basis  of  a  new  right  of  nations,  which 
has  been  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  features  of  nineteenth- 
century  history.  It  is  essentially  different  from  the  old 
doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  which  regarded  great 
tracts  of  the  world  as  the  rightful  dominion  of  particular 
dynasties  ;  and  also  from  the  doctrine  of  the  balance  of  power, 
which  prevailed  at  the  Peace  of  Westphalia,  and  governed 
most  of  the  capital  changes  in  Europe  during  the  two  suc- 
ceeding centuries.  According  to  the  great  politicians  and 
political  philosophers  of  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth 
century,  the  maintenance  of  European  stability  is  the 
supreme  end  of  international  politics.  The  first  object  in 
every  rearrangement  of  territory  should  be  to  make  it  im- 
possible for  one  great  Power  to  absorb  or  dominate  over  the 
others  ;  and,  by  multiplying  what  are  called  buffer  States,  and 
by  many  artificial  divisions  and  apportionments  of  territory, 
they  endeavoured  to  diminish  the  danger  of  collisions,  or  at 
least  to  limit  as  much  as  possible  their  number  and  their 
scope.  Territorial  changes,  in  their  view,  should  be  regarded 
mainly  with  a  view  to  these  objects,  and  justified  or  con- 
demned in  proportion  as  they  attained  them.  The  more 
modern  doctrine  is,  that  every  people,  or  large  section  of  a 
nation,  has  an  absolute  and  indefeasible  right  to  the  form 


392  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

of  government  it  pleases,  and  that  every  imposition  upon  it 
of  another  rule  is  essentially  illegitimate. 

It  is  not  here  necessary  to  trace  in  much  detail  the 
genesis  of  this  view.  It  was  prominent  among  the  original 
doctrines  of  the  French  Revolution,  but  it  was  not  long  con- 
sistently maintained.  Popular  votes  taken  under  the  pres- 
sure of  an  occupying  army,  and  largely  accompanied  by 
banishments,  proscriptions,  and  coups  d'etat,  had,  it  is  true, 
some  place  in  the  first  conquests  of  the  Revolution.  The 
Convention  proclaimed  in  the  loftiest  language  its  determi- 
nation to  respect  the  inalienable  right  of  every  people  to 
choose  its  own  form  of  government,1  and  the  Republic  made 
much  use  of  the  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  nationalities  to 
kindle  revolts ;  but  it  also  made  those  revolts  powerful  instru- 
ments for  effecting  its  own  territorial  aggrandisement,  and  it 
was  speedily  transformed  into  a  military  despotism  the  most 
formidable,  the  most  aggressive,  the  most  insatiably  am- 
bitious the  modern  world  has  ever  seen.  The  strength  and 
tenacity  of  the  sentiment  of  nationality  were,  indeed,  seldom 
more  forcibly  displayed  than  in  the  struggle  of  Spain  and  of 
the  Tyrol  against  the  Emperor  who  professed  to  be  the 
armed  representative  of  the  French  Revolution. 

After  Waterloo  the  rights  of  nationalities  suffered  a  long 
eclipse.  The  Congress  of  Vienna  and  the  arrangements  of 
the  peace  divided  countries  and  populations  among  the 
victorious  Powers,  with  the  most  absolute  disregard  for 
national  antecedents  and  national  wishes.  The  old  republic 
of  Genoa  was  handed  over  to  Piedmont,  which  it  detested. 
The  still  older  republic  of  Venice  became  a  province  of 
Austria.  Saxony  was  divided,  and  a  great  part  annexed  to 
Prussia.  Poland  was  again  partitioned.  Catholic  Belgium 
was  united  with  Protestant  Holland,  and  the  Catholic 
electorates  on  the  Rhine  with  Protestant  Prussia.  The 
doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  and  a  formal  repudia- 
tion of  the  right  of  nations  to  choose  their  forms  of  govern- 
ment, were  the  basis  of  the  new  '  Holy  Alliance,'  of  the 

1  Sorel,  L'Eicrope  ct  la  involution  Franchise,  iii.  154—55,  169-70. 


NATIONALITIES,    1830-1848  393 

resolutions  of  the  Congress  of  Laybach,  and  of  the  whole 
policy  of  Metternich,  and  in  accordance  with  these  principles 
an  Austrian  army  put  down  insurrection  in  Naples,  and  a 
French  army  in  Spain. 

There  were,  however,  signs  that  the  doctrine  of  natio- 
nalities was  not  extinct,  and  there  were  movements  in  this 
direction  which  excited  hopes  that  were  not  fully  justified  by 
the  event.  The  enthusiasm  evoked  by  the  emancipation  of 
Greece,  by  the  revolt  of  the  Spanish  colonies  in  America, 
and  by  the  foreign  policy  of  Canning,  marks  the  turn  of  the 
stream,  and  the  French  Revolution  of  1830  kindled  a  demo- 
cratic and  a  nationalist  movement  in  many  countries  much 
like  that  which  accompanied  the  Revolution  of  1848.  There 
were  insurrections  or  agitations  in  many  of  the  States  of 
Italy,  in  Germany,  Denmark,  Poland,  Hungary,  Belgium, 
and  Brazil.  Most  of  them  were  speedily  suppressed. 
Russia  crushed  with  merciless  severity  insurrection  in 
Poland.  An  Austrian  army  put  down  revolt  in  the  Pon- 
tifical States.  In  Germany  and  Austria  and  Italy  politics 
soon  moved  along  the  old  grooves,  and  the  spirit  of  reaction 
was  triumphant ;  but  the  separation  of  Belgium  from  Holland 
marked  a  great  step  in  the  direction  of  the  rights  of  natio- 
nalities ;  the  government  of  France  now  rested  on  a  parlia- 
mentary basis ;  popular  institutions  were  introduced  into 
Denmark ;  the  aristocratic  cantons  of  Switzerland  were 
transformed,  and  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  placed  English 
politics  on  a  more  democratic  basis.  Neither  Louis  Philippe 
nor  Lord  Palmerston  desired  to  propagate  revolution,  and 
their  alliance  was  chequered  and  broken  by  many  dissen- 
sions ;  but,  on  the  whole,  it  served  the  cause  of  liberty  in 
Europe,  and  still  more  the  cause  of  non-intervention. 

The  French  Revolution  of  1848  again  changed  the  aspect 
of  affairs,  and  in  a  few  months  nearly  all  Europe  was 
convulsed.  The  revolutions  which  then  took  place  were 
essentially  revolutions  of  nationality,  and  though  most  of 
them  were  for  a  time  suppressed,  they  nearly  all  eventually 
accomplished  their  designs.  I  do  not  propose  to  relate  their 
well-known  history.     It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  Freneh 


394  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Government,  in  the  manifesto  which  was  issued  by  Lamar- 
tine  in  the  March  of  1848,  while  disclaiming  any  right  or 
intention  of  intervening  in  the  internal  affairs  of  other 
countries,  asserted,  perhaps  more  strongly  than  had  ever 
been  before  done  in  an  official  document,  the  legitimacy  of 
all  popular  efforts  for  national  independence,  and  clearly 
intimated  that  when  such  risings  took  place  the  Republic 
would  suffer  no  foreign  intervention  to  suppress  them. 

The  doctrine  of  nationalities  has  been  especially  formu- 
lated and  defended  by  Italian  writers,  who  in  this  field 
occupy  the  foremost  place.  The  aspiration  towards  a 
common  nationality  that  slowly  grew  up  among  the  Italian 
people,  in  spite  of  the  many  and  ancient  political  divisions 
that  separated  them,  may  be  probably  traced  to  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  old  Roman  power.  Dante  and  Macchiavelli  at 
once  displayed  and  strengthened  it,  and  it  has  greatly 
coloured  the  Italian  political  philosophy  of  our  century. 

The  first  question  to  be  asked  is,  What  constitutes  a 
nationality  ?  Vico  had  defined  it  as  '  a  natural  society  of 
men  who,  by  unity  of  territory,  of  origin,  of  customs,  and  of 
language,  are  drawn  into  a  community  of  life  and  of  social 
conscience.'  More  modern  Italian  writers,  among  whom 
Mancini,  Mamiani,  and  Pierantoni  are  conspicuous,  have 
employed  themselves  in  amplifying  this  definition.  They 
enumerate  as  the  constituent  elements  of  nationality,  race, 
religion,  language,  geographical  position,  manners,  history, 
and  laws,  and  when  these  or  several  of  them  combine  they 
create  a  nationality.  It  becomes  perfect  when  a  special  type 
has  been  formed ;  when  a  great  homogeneous  body  of  men 
acquires,  for  the  first  time,  a  consciousness  of  its  separate 
nationality,  and  thus  becomes  '  a  moral  unity  with  a  common 
thought.'  This  is  the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  nations,  the  self- 
consciousness  which  establishes  in  nations  as  in  individuals 
a  true  personality.  And  as  the  individual  man,  according 
to  these  writers*,  has  an  inalienable  right  to  personal  freedom, 
so  also  has  the  nationality.  Every  government  of  one 
nationality  by  another  is  of  the  nature  of  slavery,  and  is 
essentially  illegitimate,  and  the  true  right  of  nations  is  the 


NATIONALITY   AND   DEMOCRACY  395 

recognition  of  the  full  right  of  each  nationality  to  acquire 
and  maintain  a  separate  existence,  to  create  or  to  change 
its  government  according  to  its  desires.  Civil  communities 
should  form,  extend,  and  dissolve  themselves  by  a  spon- 
taneous process,  and  in  accordance  with  this  right  and 
principle  of  nationality.  Every  sovereign  who  appeals  to 
a  foreign  Power  to  suppress  movements  among  his  own 
people  ;  every  foreign  Power  which  intervenes  as  Russia  did 
in  Hungary,  and  as  Austria  did  in  Italy,  for  the  purpose 
of  suppressing  a  national  movement,  is  essentially  criminal. 
On  the  other  hand,  any  war  for  the  emancipation  of  strug- 
gling nationalities,  such  as  that  of  France  with  Austria,  and 
Russia  with  Turkey,  derives  its  justification  from  this  fact, 
quite  irrespective  of  the  immediate  cause  or  pretexts  that 
produced  it.1 

Such,  pushed  to  its  full  extent  and  definition,  is  the 
philosophy  which,  in  vaguer  and  looser  terms,  pervades  very 
widely  the  political  thought  of  Europe,  and  has  played  a 
great  part  in  the  historic  development  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  It  may  be  observed  that,  though  the  idea  of 
nationality  is  greatly  affected  by  democracy,  it  is  in  itself 
distinct  from  it,  and  is,  in  fact,  very  frequently  separated 
from  it.  The  idea  and  passion  of  nationality  blend  quite  as 
easily  with  loyalty  to  a  dynasty  as  with  attachment  to  a 
republican  form  of  government,  and  nations  that  value  very 
little  internal  or  constitutional  freedom  are  often  pas- 
sionately devoted  to  their  national  individuality  and  in- 
dependence. It  may  be  observed  also,  that  the  many 
different  elements  o£-  nationality  which  have  been  mentioned 
rarely  concur,  and  that  I10  one  of  them  is  always  sufficient 
to  mark  out  a  distinct  nationality.  As  a  matter  of  history, 
all  great  nations  have  been  formed,  in  the  first  instance,  by 
many  successive  conquests  and  aggrandisements,  and  have 
gradually  become  more  or  less  perfectly  fused  into  a  single 

1  An  excellent  review  of  the  Italian  school  of  writers  on  nationality,  by 
Professor  von  Holtzendorff ,  will  be  found  in  the  Revue  dc  Droit  International, 
ii.  92-10G.  See,  too,  a  valuable  essay  by  Professor  Padeletti,  ibid.  iii.  46-1. 
M.  Emile  Ollivier,  in  his  Empire  Liberal,  has  discussed  the  French  views  on 
the  subject. 


396  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

organism.  Race,  except  when  it  is  marked  by  colour,  is 
usually  a  most  obscure  and  deceptive  guide,  and  in  most 
European  countries  different  race  elements  are  inextricably 
mixed.  Language  and  religion  have  had  a  much  greater  and 
deeper  power  in  forming  national  unities ;  but  there  are 
examples  of  different  creeds  and  languages  very  successfully 
blended  into  one  nationality,  and  there  are  examples  of 
separations  of  feeling  and  character,  due  to  historical,  political, 
and  industrial  causes,  existing  where  race,  creed,  and  language 
are  all  the  same. 

In  the  opinion  of  some  writers,  even  the  will  of  the 
people  must  be  disregarded  when  questions  of  race,  or 
language,  or  geography,  demand  an  annexation,  and  in  each 
country  the  prevailing  theory  of  nationality  is  very  mani- 
festly coloured  by  national  circumstances.  Thus  German 
writers,  in  defending  the  annexation  of  Alsace,  have  not 
contented  themselves  with  arguing  that  this  province  was 
acquired  in  repelling  an  unjust  invasion,  and  that  its  reten- 
tion is  essential  to  the  security  of  Germany.  While 
recognising  fully  that  an  overwhelming  majority  of  Alsatian 
votes  would  be  given  in  favour  of  France,  they  have  justified 
the  annexation  on  the  ground  of  the  doctrine  of  nationalities, 
as  restoring  to  Germany  an  essentially  German  province, 
which  had  been  torn  from  her  in  part  by  gross  fraud,  and 
which  is  inhabited  by  a  population  who,  though  not  German 
in  sentiment,  were  at  least  German  in  origin,  in  character, 
and  in  language.  French  writers  have  defended  their 
designs  upon  the  Rhine  on  the  ground  that  the  Rhine 
boundary  is  clearly  the  natural  frontier  of  France,  and  that 
she  is,  therefore,  only  completing  her  nationality  by  annexing 
a  territory  exclusively  inhabited  by  a  loyal  German  popula- 
tion. Italian  writers  have  demanded  the  absorption  or 
annexation  of  Italian-speaking  communities  in  Switzerland 
and  Austria  because  they  are  Italian,  entirely  irrespective  of 
all  other  considerations. 

A  more  considerable  section,  however,  of  the  upholders 
of  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  maintain  that  annexations 
can  only  be  justified,  and  can  always  be  justified,  by  a  plebi- 


y 


PLEBISCITES  397 

scite  of  the  whole  male  population,  and  it  was  one  of  the 
great  objects  of  Napoleon  III.  and  of  Count  Cavour  to 
introduce  this  principle  into  the  public  right  of  Europe.  It 
was  adopted  when  Savoy  and  Nice  were  annexed  to  France, 
and  in  the  case  of  the  different  Italian  States  which, 
through  their  own  spontaneous  action,  were  incorporated 
in  the  Italian  unity.  When,  after  the  war  of  1866,  the 
Austrian  Emperor,  in  order  to  avoid  the  humiliation  of 
treating  directly  with  Italy,  placed  Venetia  in  the  hands  of 
Napoleon  III.,  it  was  transferred  by  that  sovereign  to  Italy 
subject  to  the  consent  of  the  population  by  a  plebiscite.  So, 
too,  the  invasion  of  Neapolitan  territory  in  1860,  and  the 
capture  of  Eome  in  1870  bjr  Piedmontese  troops,  without 
any  declaration  of  war  or  any  real  provocation,  and  in 
violation  of  plain  treaty  obligations,  were  held  to  have  been 
justified  by  the  popular  votes  which  shortly  after  incorporated 
Naples  and  Eome  in  the  Italian  Kingdom.  In  the  Treaty  of 
Prague,  which  was  concluded  in  1866,  and  which,  among 
other  things,  made  Prussia  the  ruler  of  Schleswig-Holstein, 
there  was  a  clause  promising  that  if  the  inhabitants  of  the 
northern  parts  of  Schleswig  expressed  by  a  free  vote  their 
desire  to  be  reunited  to  Denmark,  their  wish  should  be 
conceded  ;  but,  in  spite  of  a  largely  signed  petition  for  such 
a  vote,  this  promise,  to  the  great  dishonour  of  Germany,  has 
never  been  fulfilled.1  The  last  case,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  of 
the  employment  of  a  plebiscite  to  sanction  an  annexation 
was  in  1878,  when  the  little  island  of  St.  Barthelemy,  in  the 
Antillas,  was  ceded  by  the  King  of  Sweden  and  Norway  to 
the  French  Republic.'2 

Sometimes,  as  in  Italy,  the  movement  of  nationality  is  a 
movement  of  sympathy  and  agglomeration,  drawing  together 
men  who  had  long  been  politically  separated.  More  fre- 
quently it  is  a  disintegrating  force,  and  many  of  its  advocates 
desire  to  call  into  intense  life  and  self-consciousness  the 
different  race  elements  in  a  great  and  composite  empire,  with 

1  Revtie  de  Droit  International,  ii.  325-26. 

-  See  Les  Annexions  et  les  Plebiscites  clans  Vllistoirc  Contcmporaine,  par 
E.  R.  De  Card  (1880). 


398  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  hope  that  they  may  ultimately  assert  for  themselves  the 
right  of  distinct  national  individuality. 

Within  certain  limits,  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  un- 
doubtedly represents  a  real  and  considerable  progress  in 
human  affairs.  The  best,  the  truest,  the  most  solid  basis  on 
which  the  peace  of  the  civilised  world  can  rest  is  the  free 
consent  of  the  great  masses  of  its  population  to  the  form  of 
government  under  which  they  live.  The  increased  recognition 
of  this  fact,  the  increased  sensitiveness  of  the  European 
conscience  to  the  iniquity  of  destroying  wantonly  the 
independence  of  a  civilised  nation,  or  maintaining  one 
civilised  nation  under  the  yoke  of  another,  is  a  genuine  sign 
of  moral  progress.  At  the  same  time  there  can,  I  think, 
be  little  question  that  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  has 
assumed  forms  and  been  pushed  to  extremes  which  make  it 
a  great  danger  to  the  peace  of  the  world.  It  becomes  the 
readiest  weapon  in  the  hands  both  of  a  conqueror  and  of  a 
revolutionist,  and,  by  discrediting  the  force  of  all  international 
treaties,  deepening  lines  of  division,  and  introducing  elements 
of  anarchy  and  rebellion  into  most  great  nations,  it  threatens 
the  most  valuable  elements  of  our  civilisation. 

Scarcely  any  one  would  apply  it  to  the  dealings  of 
civilised  nations  with  savages,  or  with  the  semi-civilised 
portions  of  the  globe.  It  is,  indeed,  most  curious  to  observe 
the  passion  with  which  nations  that  are  accustomed  to  affirm 
the  inalienable  right  of  self-government  in  the  most  unquali- 
fied terms  have  thrown  themselves  into  a  career  of  forcible 
annexation  in  the  barbarous  world.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  obtain 
a  true  judgment  of  the  opinion  even  of  civilised  communities. 
A  plebiscite  is  very  rarely  the  unforced,  spontaneous  expres- 
sion of  a  genuine  national  desire.  It  is  usually  taken  to 
ratify  or  indemnify  an  accomplished  fact.  It  is  taken  only 
when  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  result,  and  a  strong 
centralised  government  has,  on  such  occasions,  an  enormous 
power  of  organising  and  directing.  In  all  countries  a  great 
portion,  in  most  countries  a  large  majority,  of  the  people  take 
no  real  interest  in  political  affairs,  and  if  a  great  constitutional 
or  dynastic  question  is  submitted  to  their  vote  by  a  strongly 


TOLSTOI   ON   POPULAR   OPINION  399 

organised  government,  this  government  will  have  no  difficulty 
in  dictating  the  response.  Tolstoi,  in  one  of  his  later  works, 
has  made  some  remarks  on  this  subject  which,  though  very 
little  in  harmony  with  prevailing  ideas,  contain,  I  believe,  a 
large  measure  of  truth.  '  I  have  always,'  he  writes,  '  noticed 
that  the  most  serious  and  the  most  respectable  members  of 
the  labouring  class  show  a  complete  indifference  to,  and  even 
contempt  for,  patriotic  manifestations  of  every  kind.  I  have 
observed  the  same  thing  among  the  labouring  class  in  other 
nations,  and  my  observation  has  often  been  confirmed  by 
cultivated  Frenchmen,  Germans,  and  Englishmen,  when 
speaking  of  their  own  fellow-citizens.  The  labouring  popu- 
lation is  too  intensely  and  too  exclusively  occupied  with  the 
care  of  providing  for  its  own  subsistence  to  take  an  interest 
in  those  political  questions  which  lie  at  the  root  of  patriotism. 
Such  questions  as  Russian  influence  in  the  East,  the  unity 
of  Germany,  the  restoration  to  France  of  her  severed 
provinces,  do  not  really  touch  the  people,  not  only  because 
they  scarcely  ever  know  the  first  elements  of  the  problem, 
but  also  because  the  interests  of  their  lives  lie  wholly  outside 
the  circle  of  politics.  A  man  of  the  people  will  never  really 
care  to  know  what  is  the  exact  line  of  the  national  frontier. 
.  .  .  To  him  his  country  is  his  village  or  his  district.  He 
either  knows  nothing  of  what  lies  beyond,  or  it  is  a  matter  of 
perfect  indifference  to  him  to  what  government  these  terri- 
tories belong.  If  a  Russian  emigrates,  he  will  not  care 
whether  his  new  home  is  under  the  dominion  of  Russia,  or 
Turkey,  or  China.'  ' 

But  even  putting  this  consideration  aside,  can  it  seriously 
be  maintained  that  a  great  and  ancient  nation  is  obliged  to 
acquiesce  in  its  own  disintegration  whenever  a  portion  of 
its  people  can  be  persuaded  to   desire   a   separate  political 

1  Tolstoi,  UEsprit  Chritienet  le  Patriotisme,  pp.  88-9,  93.  It  is  curious  to 
contrast  this  judgment  with  the  remarks  of  Goethe  to  Eckermann.  '  In 
general,  national  hatred  has  this  special  characteristic,  that  you  will  always 
rind  it  most  intense,  most  violent,  in  proportion  as  you  descend  the  scale  of 
intellectual  culture.  But  there  is  a  degree  where  it  altogether  disappears— 
where  men  rise,  so  to  speak,  above  the  lines  of  nationhood,  and  sympathise 
with  the  happiness  or  unhappiness  of  a  neighbouring  nation  as  if  it  consisted 
of  compatriots.' 


400  DEMOCRACY   AND  LIBERTY 

existence  ?  If  a  popular  movement  can  at  any  time  destroy 
the  unity  of  the  State,  the  authority  of  the  sovereign  power, 
and  the  binding  force  of  international  treaties,  the  whole 
public  order  of  Europe  must  give  way.  Some  of  the  countries 
which  play  the  most  useful  and  respectable  parts  in  the 
concert  of  nations,  such  as  Switzerland,  Belgium,  and  the 
Austrian  Empire,  would  be  threatened  with  immediate 
dissolution  ;  and  there  is  scarcely  a  great  country  in  Europe 
which  does  not  contain  districts  with  distinct  race  and 
religious  elements,  which  might  easily  be  quickened  into 
separate  agitation.  As  in  marriage  the  conviction  that  the 
tie  is  a  life  tie,  being  supported  by  all  the  weight  of  law  and 
opinion,  is  sufficient  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  to  counteract 
the  force  of  caprice  or  temporary  disagreement,  and  produce 
acquiescence  and  content,  so,  in  the  political  world,  the  belief 
in  the  sovereign  authority  of  the  State,  and  in  the  indis- 
soluble character  of  national  bonds,  gives  stability  and  unity 
to  a  nation.  Divorce  in  families,  and  revolution  in  States, 
may  sometimes  be  necessary,  and  even  desirable,  but  only 
under  very  grave  and  exceptional  circumstances. 

If  the  bonds  of  national  unity  are  lightly  severed  ;  if  the 
policy  of  disintegration  is  preached  as  in  itself  a  desirable 
thing  ;  if  the  constituent  elements  of  a  kingdom  are  en- 
couraged or  invited  to  assert  their  separate  individuality, 
nothing  but  anarchy  can  ensue.  The  door  will  be  at  once 
opened  to  endless  agitation  and  intrigue,  and  every  ambitious, 
restless,  unscrupulous  conqueror  will  find  his  path  abundantly 
prepared.  It  is  the  object  of  all  such  men  to  see  surrounding 
nations  divided,  weakened,  and  perhaps  deprived  of  impor- 
tant strategical  positions,  through  internal  dissensions.  One 
of  the  great  dangers  of  our  age  is  that  wars  are  likely  to  be 
carried  on,  in  the  French  phrase,  '  a  coup  de  revolutions,' 
that  is,  by  deliberately  kindling  democratic,  socialist,  or 
nationalist  risings.  It  has  been  stated  on  good  authority, 
that  the  decision  of  German  statesmen  to  adopt  universal 
suffrage  as  the  basis  of  their  Constitution  was  largely  due  to 
the  desire  to  guard  against  such  dangers.  From  the  French 
revolutionists,    who    begin    their    career    of    invasion    by' 


AMERICAN   ANNEXATIONS  401 

promising  French  assistance  to  every  struggling  nationality, 
to  the  modern  Panslavist,  who  is  often  preaching  the  right 
of  nationalities  in  the  mere  interest  of  a  corrupt  and 
persecuting  despotism,  this  doctrine  has  been  abundantly 
made  use  of  to  cloak  the  most  selfish  and  the  most  mis- 
chievous designs.  Those  men  are  not  serving  the  true 
interests  of  humanity  who  enlarge  the  pretexts  of  foreign 
aggression,  and  weaken  the  force  of  treaties  and  international 
obligations,  on  which  the  peace  and  stability  of  civilisation  so 
largely  depend. 

Such  considerations  sufficiently  show  the  danger  of  the 
exaggerated  language  on  the  subject  of  the  rights  of  natio- 
nalities which  has  of  late  years  become  common.  It  will, 
indeed,  be  observed  that  most  men  use  such  language  mainly 
in  judging  other  nations  and  other  policies  than  their  own. 
One  of  the  most  remarkable  test  cases  of  this  kind  which 
have  occurred  in  our  generation  has  been  that  of  the  United 
States.  This  great  nation  is  one  of  the  least  military  as  well 
as  one  of  the  freest  and  most  democratic  in  the  world,  and 
its  representative  writers,  and  sometimes  even  its  legislative 
bodies,  are  fond  of  very  absolute  assertions  of  the  right  of 
revolution  and  the  inalienable  supremacy  of  the  popular 
will.  Yet  in  its  own  acquisitions  the  American  Kepublic 
has  never  adopted  the  principle  of  plebiscite.  Texas  was 
admitted  into  the  Union  by  a  treaty  with  a  State  which  was 
considered  independent ;  Upper  California  was  conquered 
from  Mexico ;  New  Mexico  was  acquired  by  purchase ; 
Louisiana  was  purchased  from  Napoleon  in  1803 ;  Florida 
was  acquired  by  treaty  with  Spain  in  1821 ;  but  in  no  one  of 
these  cases  were  the  people  consulted  by  a  popular  vote.1 

But  most  significant  of  all  was  the  attitude  assumed  by 
the  Federal  Government  in  dealing  with  the  secession  of  the 
South.  Long  before  that  secession  some  of  the  best  observers 
had  clearly  pointed  out  how  the  influence  of  climate,  and 
much  more  the  special  type  of  industry  and  character  which 
slavery  produced,  had  already  created  a  profound  and  lasting 

1  See  an  article  by  Professor  Lieber  on  Plebiscites,  Revue  dc  Droit 
International,  iii.  139-45. 

VOL.    I.  D  D 


4-02  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

difference  between  the  North  and  the  South.  Both  Madison 
and  Story  had  foreseen  that  the  great  danger  to  the  United 
States  was  the  opposition  between  the  Northern  and 
Southern  interests.1  Calhoun  was  so  sensible  of  the  differ- 
ence that  he  proposed  the  establishment  of  two  presidents, 
one  for  the  free,  and  the  other  for  the  slave  States,  each  with 
a  veto  on  all  national  legislation.2  Guizot 3  and  Tocqueville4 
had  both  distinctly  recognised  the  same  truth.  Though 
language  and  religion  were  the  same,  and  though  race  was 
not  widely  different,  two  distinct  nations  had  grown  up, 
clearly  separated  in  their  merits  and  their  defects,  in 
character,  manners,  aspirations,  and  interests. 

After  the  election  of  President  Lincoln  the  long-impending 
disruption  came.  The  Southern  States  proclaimed  the  right 
of  nationalities,  demanded  their  independence,  and  proved 
their  earnestness  and  their  unanimity  by  arguments  that  were 
far  more  unequivocal  than  any  doubtful  plebiscite.  For  four 
long  years  they  defended  their  cause  on  the  battle-field  with 
heroic  courage,  against  overwhelming  odds,  and  at  the 
sacrifice  of  everything  that  men  most  desire.  American  and 
indeed  European  writers  are  accustomed  to  speak  of  the 
heroism  of  the  American  colonies  in  repudiating  imperial 
taxation,  and  asserting  and  achieving  their  independence 
against  all  the  force  of  Great  Britain.  But  no  one  who 
looks  carefully  into  the  history  of  the  American  revolution, 
who  observes  the  languor,  the  profound  divisions,  the 
frequent  pusillanimity,  the  absence  of  all  strong  and  unself- 
ish enthusiasm  that  were  displayed  in  great  portions  of  the 
revolted  colonies,  and  their  entire  dependence  for  success  on 
foreign  assistance,  will  doubt  that  the  Southern  States  in  the 
War  of  Secession  exhibited  an  incomparably  higher  level  of 
courage,  tenacity,  and  self-sacrifice.  No  nation  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  has  maintained   its  nationhood  with  more 

1  Story's  Commentaries  on  the  Constitution  of  tlie  United  States,  ii.  177. 

2  Goldwin  Smith's  The  United  States,  p.  184. 

3  See  a  very  remarkable  passage  (exceedingly  creditable  to  the  sagacity  of 
Guizot,  when  it  is  remembered  that  these  lectures  were  delivered  between  1828 
and  1830)  in  the  Hist,  de  la  Civilisation,  XVIIIme  le^on. 

4  Democratic  en  Ame'rique,  torn.  ii.  ch.  x. 


THE   AVAR   OF   SECESSION  403 

courage  and  unanimity.  But  it  was  encountered  with  an 
equal  tenacity,  and  with  far  greater  resources,  and,  after  a 
sacrifice  of  life  unequalled  in  any  war  since  the  fall  of 
Napoleon,  the  North  succeeded  in  crushing  the  revolt  and 
establishing  its  authority  over  the  vanquished  South. 

The  struggle  took  place  at  a  time  when  the  recent 
emancipation  of  Italy  had  brought  the  doctrine  of  the  rights 
of  nationalities  into  the  strongest  relief.  That  doctrine  had 
been  accepted  with  enthusiasm  by  nearly  all  that  was  pro- 
gressive in  Europe,  and  nowhere  more  widely  and  more 
passionately  than  in  England.  It  is  curious  and  instructive 
to  observe  the  attitude  of  English  opinion  towards  the  con- 
test that  ensued.  At  the  opening  of  the  war  the  secession 
of  the  South  was  very  generally  blamed,  and  throughout  the 
war  a  majority  of  the  population  remained,  I  believe,  steadily 
on  the  side  of  the  North.  With  the  great  body  of  the 
working  classes  the  question  was  looked  on  simply  as  a 
question  of  slavery.  The  North  was  represented  as  fighting 
for  the  abolition  of  slavery,  which  it  certainly  was  not,  and 
as  fighting  to  prevent  the  extension  of  slavery  to  the  new 
territories,  which  it  certainly  was  ;  and  the  cause  of  demo- 
cracy was  deemed  inseparably  connected  with  the  mainte- 
nance and  the  success  of  the  great  Republic  of  the  West. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  a  majority  of  the  upper,  and  perhaps 
of  the  middle,  classes  soon  came  to  sympathise  decidedly  with 
the  South,  and  they  were  the  classes  who  were  most  power- 
fully represented  in  the  press,  in  society,  and  in  Parliament. 

Their  motives  were  very  various.  Some  were,  no  doubt, 
unworthy,  or  purely  frivolous.  There  was  the  contrast, 
which  was  then  often  drawn,  between  '  the  gentlemen  of  the 
South'  and  'the  shopkeepers  of  the  North.'  There  was 
jealousy  of  the  increasing  power  of  the  United  States,  and  of 
the  increasing  attraction  of  its  form  of  government.  There 
was  resentment  excited  by  many  unscrupulous  acts  and 
many  insulting  words  of  American  statesmen  and  writers ; 
and  the  ignorance  of  American  politics  was  so  great  that 
few  Englishmen  realised  that  the  aggressive  side  of  American 
policy  had  been  mainly  due  to  Southern  statesmen  acting  in 


404  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Southern  interests.  The  enmity  which  led  the  United  , 
States  to  declare  war  against  England  in  1812,  at. the 
time  when  England  was  engaged  in  a  desperate  struggle  for 
her  existence  and  for  the  liberty  of  Europe  against  the 
overwhelming  power  of  Napoleon,  was  not  wholly  forgotten,1 
and  the  more  recent  sympathy  of  America  with  Russia 
during  the  Crimean  war,  had,  perhaps,  still  some  slight 
influence.  There  were  also  powerful  considerations  of  pre- 
sent English  interests  involved  in  the  war.  The  North 
was  strongly  Protectionist,  and  had  begun  the  war  by  enact- 
ing an  ultra-Protectionist  tariff,  while  the  South  was  the  fer- 
vent champion  of  Free  Trade,  and  it  was  from  the  South  that 
the  English  cotton  manufacture  obtained  its  supplies,  while 
the  Northern  blockade  was  reducing  to  extreme  distress  the 
population  of  Lancashire.  Nor  should  we  omit  that  '  sport-  ' 
ing  spirit '  which,  it  has  been  truly  said,  largely  governs  Eng- 
lish interest  in  every  foreign  struggle.  A  comparatively  small 
Power,  encountering  with  consummate  skill,  with  desperate 
courage,  and  for  a  long  time  with  brilliant  success,  a  gigantic 
but  unwieldy  and  less  skilful  adversary,  was  certain  to 
awake  strong  popular  interest,  quite  irrespective  of  the 
merits  of  the  case. 

But  it  would  be  a  grave  injustice  to  attribute  to  such 
motives  the  great  body  of  serious  and  deliberate  opinion  in 
•England  which  desired  the  recognition  of  Southern  independ- 
ence and  the  cessation  of  the  war.  One  large  class  emphati- 
cally condemned  the  original  secession ;  but  they  either 
believed,  with  most  experienced  European  statesmen,  that 
the  final  subjugation  of  the  South  was  impossible,  and  that 
the  prolongation  of  the  war  was,  in  consequence,  a  mere 
useless  waste  of  life,  or  that,  if  the  South  were  finally  sub- 
jugated, it  would  reproduce  in  America  that  most  lamentable 
of  all  European  spectacles,  the  spectacle  of  a  subjugated 
Poland.  Another  large  class  believed  that,  on  the  principle 
of  the  American  Constitution,  the  South  was  acting  within 
its  constitutional  rights.     They  contended  that  when  the 

1  See  some  excellent  remarks  on  this  war  in  Golchvin  Smith's  United  States, 
pp.  166-74. 


ENGLISH   OPINION   ON   THE   WAR  405 

separate  States  agreed  on  carefully  denned  conditions  to 
enter  into  a  bond  of  union,  they  never  meant  to  surrender 
the  right,  which  they  had  so  lately  vindicated  against  Great 
Britain,  of  seceding  from  it  if  the  main  body  of  their  citizens 
vdesired  it.  This  was  the  doctrine  of  Calhoun,  and  it  was 
supported  by  a  great  weight  both  of  argument  and  authority. 
There  were  some  who,  like  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis,  detested 
slavery,  but  who  contended  that  the  differences  between 
North  and  South  were  so  grave  that  separation  was  the  only 
solution,  and  that  it  would  ultimately  prove  a  great  blessing 
to  America,  as  well  as  to  the  world,  if  the  Northern  States 
developed  as  a  separate  republic,  untainted  by  the  deteriorat- 
ing influences  of  negro  slavery  and  a  tropical  climate.1  But 
the  strongest  argument  on  this  side  was  the  doctrine  of  the 
rights  of  nationalities.  I  can  well  remember  how  the  illus- 
trious historian,  Mr.  Grote,  whose  political  leanings  were 
strongly  democratic,  and  who,  at  the  same  time,  always 
formed  his  opinions  with  an  austere  independence  and  in- 
tegrity, was  accustomed  to  speak  on  the  subject,  and  how 
emphatically  he  dissented  from  the  views  of  Mill  and  of  a 
large  proportion  of  those  with  whom  he  usually  acted.  He 
could  not,  he  said,  understand  how  those  who  had  been  so 
lately  preaching  in  the  most  unqualified  terms  that  all  large 
bodies  of  men  had  an  absolute,  unimpeachable,  indefeasible 
right  to  choose  for  themselves  their  form  of  government,  and 
that  the  growing  recognition  of  this  right  was  one  of  the  first 
conditions  of  progress  and  liberty,  could  support  or  applaud 
th$  Federal  Government  in  imposing  on  the  Southern  States 
a  government  which  they  detested,  and  in  overriding  by 
I  force  their  evident  and  unquestionable  desire. 

The  inconsistency  was  real  and  flagrant,  and  the  attitude 
of  the  North,  and  of  its  supporters  in  Europe,  could  only  be 
justified  on  the  ground  that  the  right  of  nationalities  was  not 
the  absolute,  unlimited  thing  which  it  had  been  customary 
to  assert.  In  the  Northern  States  public  opinion  never 
faltered.     Before  the  war  began,  it  is  true,  there  were  some 

1  See  a  letter  by  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis  prefixed  to  his  Administrations  of 
Great  Britain,  p.  19. 


406  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

men,  among  whom  Horace  Greeley  was  conspicuous,  who 
maintained  that  if  the  Southern  States  generally  desired  to 
secede  they  ought  not  to  be  prevented ;  and  there  were  many 
men  who  throughout  the  war  tried  to  persuade  themselves 
that  a  strong  unionist  sentiment  was  latent  in  the  South. 
But  the  question  of  submitting  the  integrity  of  the  Kepublic 
to  a  popular  vote  in  the  several  States  was  never  entertained, 
though  there  was  a  proposal,  which  was  defeated  by  the  Re- 
publican party,  of  submitting  to  a  direct  popular  vote  a  com- 
promise about  slavery  which  might  have  averted  the  war.1  It 
was  at  once  felt  that  the  question  at  issue  was  a  question  of 
national  preservation,  to  which  all  other  considerations  must 
be  subordinated,  and  the  best  men  maintained  that,  by  pre- 
serving the  integrity  of  the  republic,  even  against  the  wishes 
of  an  immense  section  of  the  people,  they  were  most  truly 
serving  the  interests  of  humanity.  Three  fatal  consequences 
would  have  followed  the  triumph  of  the  South.  Slavery 
would  have  been  extended  through  vast  territories  where  it 
did  not  hitherto  prevail.  A  precedent  of  secession  would 
have  been  admitted  which,  sooner  or  later,  would  have  broken 
up  the  United  States  into  several  different  Powers.  And  as 
these  Powers  would  have  many  conflicting  interests,  the 
European  military  system,  which  the  New  World  had  happily 
escaped,  would  have  grown  up  in  America,  with  all  the  evils 
and  all  the  dangers  that  follow  in  its  train. 

The  judgment  of  the  North  was  justified  by  the  event, 
and  this  great  struggle  added  one  more  to  the  many  con- 
spicuous instances  of  the  fallibility  of  political  predictions. 
The  overwhelming  majority  of  the  most  sagacious  politicians 
in  Europe  believed,  either  that  the  North  would  never  attempt 
to  restrain  by  force  the  Southern  States  if  they  desired  to 
secede  ;  or  that  an  armed  revolt  of  many  entire  States,  guided 
by  their  legislatures,  could  not  possibly  be  suppressed ;  or 
that,  if  it  were  suppressed,  it  could  only  be  through  a  general 
rising  of  the  enslaved  negroes,  which  they  anticipated  as  one 
of  the  most  certain  consequences  of  the  prolongation  of  the 

1  This  was  the  Crittenden  compromise.  See  Ehodes's  History  of  the 
United  States,  iii.  150,  254-67.     See,  too,  on  Greeley's  opinion,  pp.  140-42. 


THE   REGENERATION   OF   ITALY  407 

war.  Each  one  of  these  predictions  was  signally  and  abso- 
lutely falsified.  The  speedy  and  complete  acquiescence  of 
the  defeated  South  in  the  result  of  the  war  was  no  less  sur- 
prising to  European  statesmen  ;  while  the  fact  that  the  cotton 
produced  in  the  South  by  free  labour  greatly  exceeds  that 
which  was  produced  by  slavery,1  shows  that  the  Southern  belief 
that  utter  and  imminent  ruin  must  follow  abolition  was  an 
absolute  delusion.  How  different  might  have  been  the  course 
of  American  history,  how  much  bloodshed  and  misery  might 
have  been  spared,  if,  even  at  the  last  moment,  the  policy  pro- 
posed by  President  Lincoln  in  1862  had  been  accepted,  and 
the  slave  States  had  agreed  to  gradual  enfranchisement, 
receiving  Government  bonds  to  the  full  value  of  their 
slaves  ! 2 

The  regeneration  of  Italy  had  preceded  the  contest  in 
America,  and,  more  than  any  other  event,  it  gave  popularity 
to  the  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  nationalities.  It  was  one  of 
the  most  genuine  of  national  movements,  and  very  few  who 
were  young  men  when  it  took  place,  still  fewer  of  those  who, 
like  the  writer  of  these  lines,  then  lived  much  in  Italy,  can 
have  failed  to  catch  the  enthusiasm  which  it  inspired. 
Though  some  provinces  sacrificed  much,  there  was  no  pro- 
vince in  which  the  Italian  cause  did  not  command  the  support 
of  overwhelming  majorities,  and  though  two  great  wars  and 
an  overwhelming  debt  were  the  cost,  the  unity  of  Italy  was 
at  last  achieved.  The  mingled  associations  of  a  glorious  past 
and  of  a  noble  present,  the  genuine  and  disinterested  en- 
thusiasm that  so  visibly  pervaded  the  great  mass  of  the  Italian 
people,  the  genius  of  Cavour,  the  romantic  character  and 
career  of  Garibaldi,  and  the  inexpressible  charm  and  loveli- 
ness of  the  land  which  was  now  rising  into  the  dignity  of 
nationhood,  all  contributed  to  make  the  Italian  movement 
unlike  any  other  of  our  time.     It  was  the  one  moment  of 

1  See  some  remarkable  figures  on  this  subject  in  Mr.  Rhodes's  History  of  the 
United  States  from  the  Compromise  of  1850,  i.  314.  The  annual  average 
produce  of  cotton  in  the  South  between  1865  and  188G  exceeded  that  of  the 
last  twenty  years  of  slavery  by  no  less  than  653  per  cent. 

2  Khodes's  History  of  tlie  United  States  from  tlie  Comprcnnisc  of  1850,  iii. 
631-35;  Annual  Register,  1862,  p.  231. 


408  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

nineteenth-century  history  when  politics  assumed  something 
of  the  character  of  poetry. 

The  glamour  has  now  faded,  and,  looking  back  upon  the 
past,  we  can  more  calmly  judge  the  dubious  elements  that 
mingled  with  it.  One  of  them  was  the  manner  in  which  the 
annexation  of  Naples  was  accomplished.  The  expedition  of 
Garibaldi  to  Sicily  consisted  of  so  few  men,  and  could  have 
been  so  easily  crushed  if  it  had  encountered  any  real  popular 
resistance,  that  it  scarcely  forms  an  exception  to  the 
spontaneous  character  of  the  movement  towards  unity.  But 
the  absolutely  unprovoked  invasion  of  Naples  by  Piedmontese 
troops,  which  took  place  without  any  declaration  of  war 
when  the  Neapolitan  forces  had  rallied  at  Gaeta,  and  when 
the  Garibaldian  forces  were  in  danger  of  defeat,  was  a  grave 
violation  of  international  obligations  and  of  the  public  law 
and  order  of  Europe,  and  it  can  only  be  imperfectly 
palliated  by  the  fact  that  similar  interventions  at  the 
invitation  of  a  sovereign  and  in  the  interests  of  despotism 
had  not  been  uncommon. 

Much  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  subsequent 
invasion  of  Eome,  and  in  this  case  another  and  still  graver 
consideration  was  involved.  A  great  Catholic  interest  here 
confronted  the  purely  national  movement.  In  the  opinion  of 
the  head  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  in  the  opinion  of  the 
great  body  of  devout  Catholics  throughout  the  world,  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  head  of  the  Church  could  only  be  maintained 
if  he  remained  the  temporal  sovereign  of  his  diocese  ;  and 
there  was  therefore  a  cosmopolitan  interest  of  the  highest 
order  at  issue.  The  possession  of  Eome  and  the  adjoining 
territory  to  the  sea  would  have  met  the  Catholic  requirement 
for  the  independence  of  the  Pope,  and  it  was  urged  by  men 
who  had  a  warm  general  sympathy  with  the  right  of  nations 
to  choose  their  rulers,  that  in  this  case  the  less  must  yield 
to  the  greater,  and  that,  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  Catholic 
population  throughout  the  world,  the  small  population  of 
Rome  and  the  adjoining  territory  must  be  content  with  a 
position  which  was  in  most  respects  privileged  and  honour- 
able, and  forego  their  claim  to  unite  with  Italy. 


THE   ROMAN   QUESTION  4OQ 

Gioberti  had  taught  that  the  true  solution  of  the  Koman 
question  was  an  Italian  federation  under  the  presidency  of 
the  Pope,  and  at  the  Peace  of  Villafranca  Napoleon  III.  and 
the  Emperor  of  Austria  agreed  to  do  their  utmost  to  carry 
out  this  scheme.  It  was,  however,  from  the  first  doomed  to 
failure.  One  part  of  it  was  the  restoration  of  the  dispossessed 
princes,  which  could  only  be  effected  by  force.  Another  was 
the  introduction  of  Austria,  as  the  ruler  of  Venetia,  into  the 
confederation,  which  excited  the  strongest  Italian  antipathy. 
'  The  large  measure  of  reform  '  which  the  two  Emperors 
agreed  to  use  their  influence  to  obtain  from  the  Pope  proved 
wholly  unacceptable  to  that  potentate,  while  the  honorary 
presidency  of  the  confederation,  to  which  he  did  not  object, 
was  equally  unacceptable  to  Italy.  Italian  feeling  flowed 
irresistibly  towards  unity,  and  the  great  prestige  of  Koine, 
which  alone  could  command  an  indisputable  ascendency 
among  the  Italian  cities,  marked  her  out  as  the  natural 
capital.  It  is,  however,  not  altogether  impossible  that  some 
compromise  with  the  Catholic  interest  might  have  been 
effected  if  there  had  been  any  real  intelligence  at  the  Vatican. 
Unfortunately,  in  this  quarter  incapacity  and  obstinacy 
reigned  supreme.  The  Pope  had,  it  is  true,  a  cardinal- 
minister  who  possessed  to  an  eminent  degree  the  superficial 
talents  that  enable  a  statesman  to  write  clever  despatches 
and  to  conduct  skilfully  a  diplomatic  interview ;  but  neither 
he  nor  his  master  showed  the  smallest  real  power  of  govern- 
ing men,  of  measuring  wisely  the  forces  of  their  time,  and 
of  averting  revolution  by  skilful,  timely,  and  searching 
reform. 

The  part  which  was  played  by  England  in  these 
transactions  was  very  remarkable.  Though  she  had  not 
sacrificed  a  man  or  a  guinea  in  the  cause,  she  intervened 
actively  and  powerfully  at  every  stage  of  its  development  ; 
she  had  always  an  alternative  policy  to  propose,  and  in  nearly 
every  case  this  policy  ultimately  prevailed.  Lord  John 
Russell  conducted  her  foreign  policy,  and  he  was  warmly 
supported  in  the  Cabinet  by  Lord  Palmerston.  He  dissented 
strongly  from  the  leading  articles  of  the  Peace  of  Villafranca, 


4IO  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

and  clearly  pointed  out  the  impossibility  of  carrying  them 
into  effect.  He  urged  persistently  that  the  Italian  people 
should  be  left  to  form  their  own  governments  freely,  without 
the  intervention  of  either  France  or  Austria.  He  was  the 
only  statesman  who  officially  approved  of  the  Piedmontese 
invasion  of  Naples,  which  he  defended  by  a  quotation  from 
Vattel,  and  by  the  part  played  by  William  III.  in  the 
English  revolution  of  1688.  He  steadily  advocated  the 
withdrawal  of  French  troops  from  Rome,  and  the  treatment 
of  the  Roman  question  as  a  purely  Italian  one.  He 
exasperated  foreign  statesmen  not  a  little  by  his  constant 
lectures  on  '  the  right  which  belongs  to  the  people  of  every 
independent  State  to  regulate  their  own  internal  government,' 
and  on  the  iniquity  of  every  foreign  interference  with  their 
clearly  expressed  will.  '  "With  regard  to  the  general  question 
of  interference,'  he  wrote,  '  in  the  internal  affairs  of  other 
countries,  Her  Majesty's  Government  holds  that  non-inter- 
vention is  the  principle  on  which  the  Governments  of  Europe 
should  act,  only  to  be  departed  from  when  the  safety  of  a 
foreign  State  or  its  permanent  interests  require  it.'  l 

At  the  same  time,  in  the  true  spirit  of  an  English  Whig, 
he  refused  to  lay  any  stress  on  the  verdict  of  universal 
suffrage  as  expressed  by  a  plebiscite,  and  regarded  the  regular 
vote  of  duly  authorised  representative  bodies  as  the  only 
decisive  and  legitimate  expression  of  the  voice  of  the  people. 
Speaking  of  the  annexation  to  the  Italian  State  of  Naples, 
Sicily,  Umbria  and  the  Marches,  he  wrote  to  Sir  J.  Hudson  : 
'  The  votes  by  universal  suffrage  which  have  taken  place  in 
those  kingdoms  and  provinces  appear  to  Her  Majesty's 
Government  to  have  little  validity.  These  votes  are  nothing 
more  than  a  formality  following  upon  acts  of  popular 
insurrection,  or  successful  invasion,  or  upon  treaties,  and  do 
not  in  themselves  imply  any  independent  exercise  of  the  will 
of  the  nation  in  whose  name  they  are  given.  Should, 
however,  the  deliberate  act  of  the  representatives  of  the 
several  Italian  States  .  .  .  constitute  those  States  into  one 

1  See  the  despatches   on   Italy   in   the  second  volume  of   Lord  Russell's 
Speeches  and  Despatches. 


SUCCESS  OF  ENGLISH  POLICY  411 

State  in  the  form  of  a  constitutional  monarchy,  a  new 
question  will  arise.' ' 

It  is  probable  that  the  emphasis  with  which  Lord  John 
Eussell  dwelt  upon  this  distinction  was  largely  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  annexation  of  Savoy  to  France  had  been 
sanctioned  and  justified  by  a  popular  vote.  The  British 
Government  treated  this  vote  and  the  pretended  popular 
wish  with  complete  disdain,  as  a  mere  device  of  the  two 
Governments  concerned,  for  the  purpose  of  veiling  the 
character  of  a  secret  and  dangerous  intrigue  ;  and  Lord  John 
Russell  denounced  the  whole  transaction  in  language  which 
might  easily  have  led  to  war.2 

This  policy  undoubtedly  represented  the  predominant 
public  opinion  of  Great  Britain,  and  it  was  eminently 
successful.  In  the  very  critical  state  of  Italian  affairs,  and 
amid  the  strongly  expressed  disapprobation  of  the  great 
Continental  Powers,  the  steady  countenance  and  moral 
support  of  England  gave  both  force  and  respectability  to  the 
Italian  cause,  and  broke  the  isolation  to  which  it  would  have 
otherwise  been  condemned.  The  obligation  was  fully  felt 
and  gratefully  acknowledged  ;  and  there  is  a  striking 
contrast  between  the  extreme  popularity  of  England  and  the 
extreme  unpopularity  of  France  in  Italy  within  a  few 
months,  it  may  be  almost  said  within  a  few  weeks,  after 
Solferino.  The  promise  that  Italy  should  be  freed  '  from  the 
Alps  to  the  Adriatic,'  and  uncontrolled  by  any  foreign  Power, 
was  falsified  by  the  Peace  of  Villafranca,  which  left  Austria 
the  mistress  of  Venetia,  and  if  its  provisions  had  been 
carried  out  would  have  made  her  the  dominant  power  in  the 
peninsula.  Imperious  considerations  of  French  interests 
might  be  truly  alleged  to  justify  this  unexpected  peace,  but 
it  is  not  surprising  that  it  should  have  sent  a  thrill  of 
exasperation  through  the  Italian  people.  The  claim  of  the 
Emperor  on  the  gratitude  of  the  Italians  was  still  further 
weakened  when  he  demanded  Nice  and  Savoy  as  a  payment 
for  his  services,  and  his  attempt  to  support  two  great  but 

1  Lord  J.  Russell  to  Sir  J.  Hudson,  Jan.  21,  1861. 
•-'  Walpole's  Life  of  Russell,  ii.  319-21. 


412  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

essentially  incompatible  interests  by  maintaining  with 
French  bayonets  the  dominion  of  the  Pope  at  Rome,  while 
he  acquiesced,  though  slowly  and  reluctantly,  in  the  annexa- 
tion of  the  other  portions  of  Italy  to  the  new  kingdom,  and 
in  the  abandonment  of  his  favourite  scheme  of  an  Italian 
federation,  had  the  very  natural  effect  of  exciting  anger  and 
distrust  on  both  sides.  England,  on  the  other  hand,  had  but 
one  voice,  and  her  simple  policy  of  leaving  Italy,  without  any 
foreign  intervention,  to  construct  her  own  government  fully 
met  the  Italian  desires. 

History  has  certainly  not  said  her  last  word  about 
Napoleon  III.,  a  sovereign  who  has  of  late  years  been  as 
extravagantly  depreciated  as  he  was  once  extravagantly 
extolled.  More  justice  will  one  day  be  done  to  his  manifest 
and  earnest  attempts,  under  circumstances  of  extreme  diffi- 
culty, to  reconcile  a  great  and  real  Catholic  interest,  which 
was  very  dear  to  a  large  section  of  his  subjects,  with  his 
earnest  desire  to  free  Italy  from  foreign  control.  The 
obstacles  he  had  to  encounter  were  enormous  :  the  stubborn 
resistance  of  the  Papal  Court  to  the  reforms  and  compromises 
he  recommended ;  the  furious  indignation  of  French  Catholic 
opinion  at  his  acquiescence  in  the  annexation  of  Romagna, 
Umbria,  and  the  Marches  ;  the  irresistible  torrent  of  Italian 
opinion  impelling  Italian  policy  in  the  direction  of  unity. 
The  great  continental  countries  disapproved  of  his  policy  as 
unduly  liberal,  while,  on  opposite  grounds,  English  disap- 
probation greatly  increased  his  difficulties.  He  desired 
manifestly  and  sincerely  to  withdraw  his  troops  from  Rome, 
if  he  could  do  so  without  destroying  the  temporal  power. 
At  one  moment  he  had  almost  attained  his  end,  and  the 
evacuation  was  actually  ordered,  when  Garibaldi's  invasion 
of  Sicily  threw  the  South  of  Italy  into  a  flame,  and  changed 
the  whole  aspect  of  affairs.  Projects  for  establishing  a 
neutral  zone  under  European  guarantee ;  for  garrisoning 
Rome  with  Neapolitan  troops  ;  for  reorganising  the  Papal 
army  on  such  a  scale  that  it  might  be  sufficient  to  secure  the 
independence  of  Rome,  were  constantly  passing  through  his 
mind.     At  one  time  he  proposed  a  congress  to  deal  with  the 


FRANCE,   ENGLAND,   AND   ITALY  413 

question.  At  another  he  authorised  and  inspired  a 
pamphlet  maintaining  that  the  city  of  Eome  alone,  without 
any  other  territory,  would  be  sufficient  to  secure  the  in- 
dependence of  the  Pope.  At  another  he  ordered  inquiries  to 
be  made  into  the  government  of  the  city  of  London  by  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation,  under  the  strange  notion  that 
this  might  furnish  some  clue  for  a  double  government  at 
Eome.  The  secret  despatches  of  his  minister,  which  have 
now  been  published,  furnish  a  curious  and  vivid  picture  of 
the  extreme  difficulties  of  his  task,  but  also,  I  think,  of  the 
sincerity  with  which,  amid  many  hesitations  and  perplexities, 
he  endeavoured  to  accomplish  it.1 

History  will  also  pronounce  upon  the  policy  of  England 
during  this  crisis,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  it  will  be  less 
eulogistic  than  contemporary  English  opinion.  It  will 
scarcely,  I  think,  approve  of  that  strange  and  famous 
despatch  in  which  Lord  John  Eussell  justified  the  Pied- 
montese  invasion  of  Naples,  and  it  may  well  pronounce  the 
Eoman  policy  of  England  to  have  been  an  unworthy  one, 
though  it  was  both  popular  and  successful.  This  question 
was  pre-eminently  one  on  which  a  great  and  cosmopolitan 
Catholic  interest  had  to  be  weighed  against  a  question  of 
nationality,  and  in  such  a  dispute  the  intervention  of  a 
Protestant  Power  seems  to  me  to  have  been  wholly  un- 
justifiable. The  bitter  resentment  it  excited  among  the 
Irish  Catholics  was,  in  my  opinion,  not  without  foundation. 

Whether  the  unity  of  Italy  has  been  to  the  Italian  people 
the  blessing  that  we  once  believed  may  also  be  greatly 
doubted.  The  political  movements  and  combinations  that 
make  most  noise  in  the  world,  and  excite  the  largest  measure 
of  enthusiasm,  are  often  not  those  which  affect  most  deeply 
or  most  beneficially  the  real  happiness  of  men.  The  elements 
of  true  happiness  are  to  be  found  in  humbler  spheres,  and 
are  to  be  estimated  by  other  tests.  Italy  has  had  many  good 
fortunes,  but  the  peace  which  left  her  with  the  acquisition 
of  Lombardy,  and  the  certainty  before  her  of  another  great 
war  for  the  acquisition  of  Venetia,  was  one  of  the  chief 
1  Thouvcnel,  Lc  Secret  dc  VEmvereur. 


414  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

disasters  in  her  history.  Proposals,  it  is  true,  were  then 
circulated,  with  some  authority,  for  the  sale  of  "Venetia  by 
Austria  to  Italy,  and  if  such  a  sale  had  been  effected  the 
whole  course  of  recent  European  history  might  have  been 
changed.  Italy  might  have  been  saved  from  financial  ruin, 
and  the  financial  position  of  Austria  would  have  been  enor- 
mously improved.  It  would  have  been  possible  for  Austria 
to  have  carried  out  both  more  promptly  and  more  efficiently 
her  transformation  into  a  really  constitutional  empire ;  and  as 
Italy  would  have  had  no  motive  for  joining  with  her  enemies, 
the  war  of  1866  might  either  have  been  averted,  or  have 
ended  differently. 

But  a  false  point  of  honour,  in  which  the  Austrian 
Emperor  undoubtedly  represented  the  prevalent  feeling  of 
his  subjects,  prevented  such  a  cession,  and  opened  a  new 
chapter  of  events  almost  equally  disastrous  to  Austria  and  to 
Italy.  In  the  terrible  years  of  preparation  for  a  great  war 
the  debt  of  Italy  rose  rapidly  to  unmanageable  dimen- 
sions, and  the  dangers,  the  responsibilities,  the  gigantic  army 
and  navy  of  a  great  Power,  soon  created  for  her  a  burden 
she  was  wholly  unable  to  bear.  Most  of  the  Italian  States, 
before  the  war  of  independence  began,  were  among  the 
most  lightly  taxed  in  Europe,  but  no  other  European  coun- 
try, in  proportion  to  its  means,  is  now  so  heavily  taxed  as 
Italy.  Those  who  have  observed  the  crushing  weight  with 
which  this  excessive  taxation  falls,  not  only  on  the  upper  and 
middle  classes  of  the  Italian  people,  but  also  on  the  food 
and  industry  of  the  very  poor,  the  grinding  poverty  it  has 
produced,  and  the  imminent  danger  of  national  bankruptcy 
that  hangs  over  Italy,  may  well  doubt  whether  her  unity  has 
not  been  too  dearly  purchased,  and  whether  Napoleon's 
scheme  of  an  Italian  federation  might  not,  after  all,  have 
proved  the  wiser.  A  very  competent  writer  has  computed 
that,  in  the  years  of  perfect  peace  between  1871  and  1893,  the 
taxation  of  Italy  has  increased  more  than  30  per  cent. ;  that 
the  national  debt  has  been  increased  in  twenty-three  years 
of  peace  by  about  four  milliards  of  francs,  or  160  millions  of 
pounds  ;  and  that  the  interest  of  this  debt,  without  counting 


V 
DOCTRINE   OF   RACES  415 

the  communal  debts  or  the  rfloating  debt,  absorbs  one-third 
of  the  whole  revenue.1 

It  has  been  truly  claimed,  however,  for  Italy  that  she 
represents  the  triumph  of  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  in  its 
best  form.  Nowhere  else  do  so  many  elements  of  nationality 
concur — language,  religion,  a  clearly  defined  geographical 
unity,  a  common  literature,  and  common  sentiments.  In 
German  unity  genuine  sympathy  bore  a  great  part,  but  in 
some  portions  of  the  Empire  force  alone  carried  out  the  policy. 
In  some  quarters  race  is  represented  as  the  most  essential 
element  of  nationality,  and  the  doctrine  of  nationality  has 
blended  closely  with  a  doctrine  of  races  which  seems  destined 
to  be  a  great  disturbing  influence  in  the  affairs  of  the  world.2 

The  unity  of  the  Latin  race,  to  be  established  partly  by 
absorptions,  and  partly  by  alliances  in  which  France  should 
hold  the  ruling  place,  was  a  favourite  French  doctrine  in  the 
time  of  Napoleon  III.,  though  it  has  now  greatly  faded,  owing 
to  the  profound  antipathies  that  divide  France  and  Italy. 
Michel  Chevalier,  among  others,  powerfully  advocated  it ;  it 
was  given  as  one  of  the  chief  reasons  for  the  unfortunate 
expedition  to  Mexico ;  it  gave  colour  to  French  aspirations 
to  dominion  both  in  Belgium  and  French  Switzerland  ;  and 
a  school  of  writers  arose  who  represented  the  establishment 
of  an  equilibrium  between  the  great  races  as  the  true  balance 
of  power,  the  future  basis  of  international  politics.  The 
unity  of  the  Teutonic  race  has  had  corresponding  adherents 
in  Germany,  and  their  eyes  have  been  greedily  cast,  not  only 
towards  Austria  and  towards  Alsace,  but  also  towards  Hol- 
land, towards  the  German  provinces  of  Belgium,  and  towards 
the  Baltic  provinces.  The  Panslavist  movement  is  the  latest, 
and  perhaps  the  most  dangerous,  on  the  stage,  and  it  seeks 
the  disintegration  not  only  of  Turkey,  but  of  Austria.  It  must 
be  observed,  too,  that  in  proportion  to  the  new  stress  given 
to  the  claims  of  nationality  comes  an  increased  desire  among 
rulers  to  extirpate  in  their  dominions  all  alien  national  types, 

1  See  Geffcken's  article  on  the  '  War  Chests  of  Europe,'  Nineteenth  Century, 
August  1894. 

-  See  Rcvite  de  Droit  International,  iii.  458-68. 


416  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

whether  of  race,  or  language,  or  creed,  which  may  some  day 
be  called  into  active  existence. 

Few  things  are  more  curious  to  observe  than  the  conflict- 
ing tendencies  which  are,  in  the  same  period  of  history, 
drawing  nations  in  diametrically  opposite  directions.  The 
tendency  to  great  agglomerations  and  larger  political  unities 
has  in  our  day  been  very  evident.  Railroads,  and  the  many 
other  influences  producing  a  more  rapid  interchange  of  ideas 
and  commerce,  and  more  cosmopolitan  habits  and  manners, 
act  strongly  in  this  direction  ;  and  the  military  and  naval 
systems  of  our  time  throw  an  overwhelming  power  into  the 
hands  of  the  great  nations.  On  the  other  hand,  there  has 
been  in  many  forms  a  marked  tendency  to  accentuate  dis- 
tinct national  and  local  types. 

It  has  .been  very  clearly  shown  in  national  languages. 
As  late  as  the  days  of  Frederick  the  Great,  French  had  a  com- 
plete ascendency,  even  at  the  Prussian  Court ;  and  long  after 
that  date  it  seemed  in  many  countries  likely  to  displace  all 
local  languages  in  the  common  usage  of  the  upper  classes. 
Nearly  everywhere  this  tendency  has  been  checked,  and 
national  languages  now  fully  maintain  their  ascendency.  The 
late  Queen  Sophie  of  the  Netherlands  was  accustomed  to 
relate  that,  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  in  1839,  some  of  her 
counsellors  told  her  that  it  was  scarcely  necessary  for  her 
to  learn  Dutch,  as  the  use  of  it  was  so  rapidly  passing 
away  among  the  upper  classes  in  Holland ;  but  she  lived 
to  see  that  usage  constant  and  universal.  It  was,  I  believe, 
only  under  Nicholas  that  Russian  superseded  French  as  the 
Court  language  at  St.  Petersburg,  and,  according  to  com- 
petent judges,  the  same  change  has  in  the  present  genera- 
tion extended  widely  through  all  Russian  society.  In 
Belgium  there  has  been  a  marked  and"  most  significant 
movement  for  maintaining  the  Flemish  language  and  Flemish 
nationality ;  a  similar  tendency  prevails  in  Bohemia  and 
Hungary,  and  even  at  home  it  may  be  seen  in  the  greatly 
increased  stress  laid  upon  the  Welsh  language.  The  war  of 
1870  strengthened  it,  and  French  has  lost  much  of  its  cosmo- 
politan character  as  the  language  of  diplomacy,  while  no  other 


CONCESSIONS  TO   NATIONALITY  417 

single  language  has  taken  its  place.  At  no  previous  period, 
I  suppose,  has  so  large  an  amount  of  interest  and  research 
been  devoted  to  the  study  of  local  customs,  literatures,  tradi- 
tions, and  antiquities.  Education,  if  it  widens  interests,  also 
contributes  to  kindle  political  life  in  small  areas,  and  the 
extension  of  the  suffrage  and  of  local  government,  and  per- 
haps still  more  the  growth  of  a  local  press,  have  all  their 
effect  in  accentuating  local  divisions  and  awakening  local 
aspirations.  The  vast  military  systems  of  the  Continent 
may,  perhaps,  in  some  degree  divert  the  minds  of  the  great 
disciplined  masses  from  internal  and  constitutional  politics, 
and  they  weaken  the  lines  of  provincial  differences,  but  they 
also  bring  into  stronger  and  sharper  relief  national  distinctions 
and  national  antagonisms. 

Among  the  problems  that  weigh  heavily  on  the  statesmen 
of  our  age,  few  are  more  serious  than  those  of  reconciling 
local  and  particularist  aspirations  with  the  maintenance 
of  imperial  strength  and  unity,  and  with  the  stability  of 
European  peace.  In  all  such  questions  many  various,  and 
often  conflicting,  circumstances  must  be  considered,  and  no 
general  and  inflexible  rule  can  be  laid  down.  England,  in 
1864,  made  a  remarkable  concession  to  the  rights  of  natio- 
nalities when,  in  response  to  a  strongly  expressed  local  wish, 
she  abandoned  her  protectorate  over  the  Ionian  Isles  and 
permitted  their  annexation  to  Greece.  She  certainly  would 
not  have  acted  in  the  same  way  if  Malta,  or  Ireland,  or 
some  other  vital  portion  of  her  Empire  had  demanded  to 
be  annexed  to  a  foreign  Power.  Every  great  empire  is 
obliged,  in  the  interest  of  its  imperial  unity  and  in  the  interest 
of  the  public  order  of  the  world,  to  impose  an  inflexible  veto 
on  popular  movements  in  the  direction  of  disintegration, 
however  much  it  may  endeavour  to  meet  local  wishes  by 
varying  laws  and  institutions  and  compromises.  Nations, 
too,  differ  very  widely  in  the  strength  of  their  national 
types,  in  their  power  of  self-government,  in  their  power 
of  governing  others,  in  their  power  of  assimilating  or 
reconciling  alien  types.  There  are  cases  where  the  destruc- 
tion of  an  old  nationality,  or  even  of  a  nationality  which  had 
vol.   1.  E  E 


41 8  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

never  fully  existed,  but  had  been  prematurely  arrested  in  its 
growth,  leaves  behind  it  in  large  classes  hatreds  which 
rankle  for  centuries.  There  are  other  cases  where,  in  a  few 
years,  a  complete  fusion  is  effected,  where  every  scar  of  the 
old  wound  is  effaced,  where  all  distinctions  are  obliterated, 
or  where  they  subsist  only  in  healthy  differences  of  type, 
tendency,  and  capacity,  which  add  to  the  resources  without 
in  any  degree  impairing  the  strength  and  harmony  of  the 
nation.  There  are  cases  where  an  extension  of  local  re- 
presentative institutions  will  amply  satisfy  local  aspirations 
and  appease  local  discontents,  and  where  such  institutions 
are  certain  to  be  justly  and  moderately  used.  There  are  other 
cases  where  they  would  be  infallibly  turned  into  instruments 
for  revolution,  plunder,  and  oppression,  where  they  would 
only  increase  dissension,  and  perhaps  lead  to  civil  war. 

All  these  elements  of  the  problem  must,  in  each  separate 
case,  be  duly  estimated.  On  the  whole,  the  doctrine  of  the 
absolute  and  indefeasible  right  of  nationalities  to  determine 
their  own  form  of  government  seems  to  me  now  less 
prominent  among  the  political  ideas  of  the  world  than  it 
was  in  1848,  and  at  the  period  of  the  emancipation  of  Italy. 
Both  England  and  America  have  learnt,  from  their  own 
experience,  the  dangers  that  may  spring  from  its  too  un- 
qualified assertion ;  Eastern  Europe  has  shown  how  easily 
it  may  be  converted  into  an  instrument  of  aggression  and 
intrigue ;  and  the  institution  of  the  plebiscite  has  been  much 
discredited  since  the  fall  of  the  second  French  Empire. 
France  was  once  the  most  ardent  champion  of  this  doctrine 
in  its  extreme  form,  partly,  perhaps,  because  her  own 
territory  is  singularly  compact,  homogeneous,  and  well 
assimilated ;  but  since  1870  her  aspirations  and  alliances 
have  carried  her  in  very  different  directions.  At  the  same 
time,  the  movement  towards  international  Socialism,  which 
has'  spread  widely  through  the  working  classes  of  the 
Continent,  is  wholly  alien  to  the  idea  of  nationality,  appeals 
to  a  different  kind  of  enthusiasm,  and  seeks  to  divide  the 
world  by  other  lines.  The  chief  apparent  exception  has 
been  the   greatly   increased    importance   which    the    Irish 


IRISH   NATIONALITY  419 

Home  Rule  movement  has  assumed  since  the  Irish  suffrage 
was  so  extended  as  to  give  an  overwhelming  power  to  the 
lowest  orders,  since  Parnell  organised  his  agitation,  and 
since  Mr.  Gladstone  accepted  his  demands.  But  the  nation, 
in  1886  and  1895,  condemned  this  policy  with  an  emphasis 
that  it  is  impossible  to  mistake ;  nor  would  the  movement 
in  Ireland  ever  have  attained  its  formidable  magnitude  if  it 
had  not  allied  itself  with  motives  and  interests  very  different 
from  the  pure  nationalism  of  Grattan  and  of  Davis. 


420  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 


CHAPTEK  VI 

DEMOCRACY   AND   RELIGIOUS   LIBERTY 

There  are  few  subjects  upon  which  mankind  in  different 
ages  and  countries  have  differed  more  widely  than  in  their 
conceptions  of  liberty,  and  in  the  kinds  of  liberty  which 
they  principally  value  and  desire.  Even  in  our  own  day, 
and  among  civilised  nations,  these  differences  are  enormously 
great.  There  are  vast  countries  where  the  forms  of  liberty 
to  which  the  English  race  are  most  passionately  attached, 
and  which  they  have  attained  by  the  most  heroic  and 
persistent  efforts,  would  appear  either  worthless  or  positively 
evil.  There  are  nations  who  would  recoil  with  horror  from 
the  unlimited  liberty  of  religious  discussion  and  propa- 
gandism  which  has  become  the  very  life-breath  of  modern 
Englishmen  ;  who  care  little  or  nothing  for  the  unrestricted 
right  of  public  meeting  and  political  writing ;  who  deem 
complete  commercial  liberty,  with  its  corollary  of  unrestricted 
competition,  an  evil  rather  than  a  good ;  who  regard  the 
modern  relaxations  of  the  restrictions  of  creed  or  sex  in 
employments  and  appointments  as  subversive  of  the  best 
moral  elements  in  the  community,  and  in  whose  eyes  an 
Englishman's  absolute  right  to  bequeath  his  property  as  he 
wills  is  the  source  of  enormous  injustice.  In  some  Western, 
and  in  nearly  all  Eastern  nations,  good  administration  is  far 
more  valued  than  representation,  and  provided  men  can  obtain 
a  reasonable  amount  of  order,  peace,  security,  and  prosperity 
at  a  moderate  charge,  provided  their  habits  and  religions  are 
undisturbed,  they  care  very  little  by  whom  or  in  what  way 
their  rulers  are  appointed,  and  gladly  dismiss  the  whole 
subject  of  politics  from  their  thoughts. 

On  the  other  hand,  numerous  restraints,  prohibitions,  and 


RESTRICTIONS   AND   PROHIBITIONS  42  I 

punishments  exist  in  England,  and  are  strongly  supported  by 
English  opinion,  which  would  in  other  zones  of  thought 
be  bitterly  resented.  It  would  seem,  in  many  countries,  a 
monstrous  tyranny  that  poor  parents  should  be  compelled  to 
send  their  children  to  school,  and  should  be  fined  by  a  magis- 
trate if  they  kept  them  at  home  in  times  when  they  most 
needed  their  services.  The  English  Sunday  wears  to  many 
continental  minds  at  least  as  repulsive  an  aspect  as  the  Star 
Chamber  would  wear  to  a  modern  Englishman.  That  a  man 
who  wished  to  work  on  that  day  should  not  be  allowed  to  do 
so ;  that  a  struggling  shopkeeper  should  be  forbidden,  if  he 
desired  it,  to  open  his  shop  ;  that  a  farmer  should  be  pre- 
vented from  reaping  his  own  harvest  when  every  fine  day  is 
of  vital  consequence  to  his  interests ;  that  poor  men  should  be 
excluded  by  law  on  their  one  holiday  from  their  place  of 
meeting  and  refreshment ;  that  nearly  all  forms  of  amusement, 
and  even  most  of  the  public  picture  galleries,  museums,  and 
libraries  should  be  closed  on  the  day  on  which  they  could 
give  the  widest  pleasure,  would  seem  to  many  quite  as  serious 
an  infringement  of  liberty  as  those  acts  against  which  Magna 
Charta  and  the  Bill  of  Rights  were  directed. 

A  severity  of  censorship  is  maintained  in  England,  with 
the  full  sanction  of  public  opinion,  over  theatres  and  music- 
halls,  and  over  most  forms  of  gambling,  which  in  some  parts 
of  the  Continent  would  excite  at  least  as  much  discontent  as  a 
censorship  of  the  Press.  To  a  man  of  Spanish  blood,  a  legal 
prohibition  of  bull-fights  would  probably  appear  quite  as 
oppressive  as  a  restriction  of  his  electoral  rights,  and  a  very 
similar  sentiment  has  of  late  years  grown  up  in  a  great  part 
of  the  South  of  France.  If  this  example  may  be  thought  an 
extreme  one,  it  is  at  least  certain  that  on  the  whole  subject 
of  the  treatment  of  animals  English  opinion  and  practice 
differ  enormously  from  the  general  continental  standard  in 
the  number  and  the  severity  of  their  restrictions.  In  no 
other  country  are  scientific  experiments  on  living  animals 
restrained  by  law,  and  in  most  countries  public  opinion 
would  be  wholly  against  such  legislation.  A  special  Act  of 
Parliament  makes  it  in  England  a  criminal  offence  to  yoke 


422  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

a  dog  to  a  cart,1  which  in  Holland,  Belgium,  and  many  other 
very  civilised  countries  is  done  every  day,  without  exciting 
the  smallest  disapprobation.  The  manufacture  of  '  pate  de 
foie  gras,'  which  is  accomplished  by  artificially  producing 
a  disease,  is  an  important  industry  in  France  and  Germany ; 
it  would  probably  be  suppressed  in  England  by  law,  and 
what  in  other  countries  is  considered  the  very  ordinary 
process  of  dishorning  cattle  has  been  pronounced,  though 
with  some  conflict  of  judicial  opinion,  to  be  illegal. 

Laws  against  wanton  cruelty  to  animals  exist  in  most 
countries,  but  in  their  scope,  their  stringency,  and  above 
all  in  their  administration,  there  is  an  immense  difference 
between  England  and  the  Continent.  An  amount  of  over- 
driving, over- working,  and  other  ill-treatment  of  animals 2 
which  in  most  countries — certainly  in  most  Southern  coun- 
tries— does  not  excite  a^  reprobation  or  attention  is  in 
England  punishable  by  law.  In  France  there  is  the  well- 
known  Grammont  law,  which  was  enacted  in  1850,  for  the 
protection  of  animals.  But  it  is  confined  to  domestic 
animals  which  are  '  publicly  and  abusively '  treated  :  it  is 
clearly  laid  down  by  French  lawyers  that  it  gives  no 
inquisitorial  power  of  interfering  with  what  is  done  in  a 
private  house,  or  court,  or  garden ;  it  can  only  be  put  in 
force  by  public  functionaries,  and  its  penalties  range  from  a 
fine  of  5  to  15  francs,  or  a  maximum  sentence  of  five  days 
of  prison.3  In  England  the  corresponding  penalty  is  two 
months'  imprisonment ;  there  is  no  exception  of  acts  done 
in  private  houses,  and  private  persons  may  put  the  law  in 
force.  Few  societies  are  more  warmly  supported  in  England 
than  one  which  annually  prosecutes  about  6,000  persons, 
chiefly  very  poor  men,  for  offences  against  animals,  the 
immense  majority  of  which  would  be  on  the  Continent  un- 

1  17  &  18  Vict.  c.  60,  s.  2. 

2  e.g.,  England  is,  I  suppose,  the  only  country  in  Europe  where  a  peasant 
woman  may  be  arrested  and  brought  before  a  magistrate  because  she  has 
carried  her  fowls  to  market  with  their  heads  downwards. 

3  The  questions  raised  in  connection  with  the  Grammont  law  have  been 
treated  in  full  by  N.  A.  Guilbon,  Des  mauvais  traitements  envers  les  animaux 
domestiqius. 


RESTRICTIONS   AND   PROHIBITIONS  423 

punished,  and  probably  even  unblamed.  At  the  same  time, 
there  are  few  countries  in  the  civilised  world  in  which  the 
killing  of  animals  enters  so  largely  as  in  England  into  the 
amusements  of  the  upper  and  middle  classes  of  society,  and 
lines  of  distinction  are  drawn  which,  though  fully  recognised 
by  English  opinion,  would  in  many  countries  be  resented. 
The  magistrate  who  sends  a  poor  man  to  prison  for  taking 
part  in  a  cock-fight  or  a  dog-fight,  for  baiting  a  badger  or 
worrying  a  cat,  very  probably  protects  his  own  game  by 
setting  steel  traps  for  vermin  and  strychnine  for  stray  dogs, 
and  takes  part  without  reproach  in  a  coursing  match,  a  stag 
hunt,  or  a  battue. 

A  similar  contrast  may  be  found  in  other  fields.  In  the 
English  marriage  law  there  is  at  least  one  restriction  on  the 
contraction  of  marriages,  and  there  are  many  restrictions  on 
the  dissolution  of  unhappy  marriages  which  nearly  all  other 
Protestant  countries  have  abolished.  The  licensing  laws, 
the  factory  laws,  the  laws  on  sanitation,  bristle  with  re- 
strictions and  penal  clauses  that  in  many  other  countries  are 
unknown,  and  there  are  great  communities  in  which  the  law 
which  treats  attempted  suicide  as  a  crime  would  be  deemed 
a  violation  of  natural  freedom.  Political  freedom  and 
social  freedom  do  not  necessarily  go  together,  and  it  will 
often  be  found  that  restraints  and  prohibitions  are  being 
multiplied  in  one  department  while  they  are  being  relaxed, 
or  abolished  in  another.  It  is  probable  that  the  lives  of 
men  were  more  variously  and  severely  restricted  under 
the  censorship  of  the  Roman  republic  than  under  the 
tyranny  of  the  Caesars ;  under  the  rule  of  the  Puritans 
during  the  Commonwealth,  or  in  Scotland  and  New  Eng- 
land, than  in  many  of  the  despotisms  of  the  Continent. 

These  few  examples  may  illustrate  the  variety  and  the 
difficulty  of  the  subject,  and  it  may  not  be  a  useless  thing  to 
take  stock  of  our  present  conceptions  of  liberty,  to  observe 
the  changes  that  are  passing  over  them,  and  to  ascertain  in 
what  directions  modern  legislation  and  opinion  are  realising, 
enlarging,  or  abridging  them. 

One   most    important    form    of   liberty,    which    in    our 


424  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

generation  has  been  almost  completely  achieved,  both  in 
England  and  in  most  foreign  countries,  has  been  religious 
liberty.  In  England,  at  least,  complete  liberty  of  worship 
and  of  opinion  had  been  practically  attained  in  1813,  when 
Unitarians  at  last  received  the  legal  recognition  which 
had  long  been  granted  to  other  Dissenters.  It  is  true  that, 
if  we  looked  only  on  the  letter  of  the  law,  this  statement 
would  not  be  absolutely  true.  A  number  of  wholly  obsolete 
laws  directed  against  Roman  Catholics,  or  against  those  who 
abstained  from  the  Anglican  service,  were  only  repealed  in 
1844  and  1846. '  Unrepealed  clauses  in  the  Catholic  Eman- 
cipation Act  of  1829  even  now  make  it  an  offence  punish- 
able by  banishment  for  life  for  Jesuits,  or  members  of  other 
male  religious  communities,  to  come  into  the  kingdom,  and 
for  any  person  in  England  to  join  such  bodies,  or  to  introduce 
others  into  them  ; 2  and  an  Act  of  William  III.  is  still  on  the 
Statute  Book,  according  to  which,  in  the  opinion  of  very 
competent  lawyers,  the  gravest  and  most  solid  works 
impugning  the  Christian  religion  and  the  Divine  authority 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  might  be  made  subjects  to 
prosecution.3  These  laws,  however,  have  become  entirely 
obsolete,  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  every  form  of 
religious  worship  which  does  not  directly  offend  morality, 
and  every  -form  of  religious  opinion  which  is  expressed 
in  serious  and  decent  language,  are,  in  England,  perfectly 
unrestricted. 

The  practice  of  the  law  is  in  this  respect  fully  sup- 
ported by  public  opinion.  No  change  in  English  life  during 
the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  more  conspicuous 
than  the  great  enlargement  of  the  range  of  permissible 
opinions  on  religious  subjects.  Opinions  and  arguments 
which  not  many  years  ago  were  confined  to  small  circles 

1  7  and  8  Vict.  c.  102  ;  9  and  10  Vict.  c.  59. 

2  10  George  IV.  c.  7,  ss.  28-34.  There  was  an  exception  in  favour  of  natural- 
born  subjects  who  had  been  Jesuits  or  members  of  other  religious  orders  before 
the  Act  passed,  and  who  were  only  required  to  register  themselves.  A  Secretary 
of  State  might  also  give  other  Jesuits  a  special  license  to  remain  in  England 
for  not  longer  than  six  months. 

3  Stephen's  History  of  the  Criminal  Lmv,  ii.  468-76. 


SIGNED   ARTICLES  425 

and  would  have  drawn  down  grave  social  penalties,  have 
become  the  commonplaces  of  the  drawing-room  and  of  the 
boudoir.  The  first  very  marked  change  in  this  respect 
followed,  I  think,  the  publication  in  1860  of  the  'Essays 
and  Reviews,'  and  the  effect  of  this  book  in  making  the  reli- 
gious questions  which  it  discussed  familiar  to  the  great  body 
of  educated  men  was  probably  by  far  the  most  important  of 
its  consequences.  The  power  and  popularity  of  the  works 
of  Buckle  and  Renan ;  the  long  controversies  that  followed 
Bishop  Colenso's  criticism  on  the  Pentateuch  ;  the  writings 
of  Darwin,  and  their  manifest  bearing  on  the  received 
theologies ;  the  gradual  infiltration  into  England  of  the 
results  that  had  been  arrived  at  by  the  Biblical  critics  of 
Germany  and  Holland,  have  all  had  a  powerful  influence, 
and  the  tendency  has  been  greatly  accelerated  by  the 
fashion,  which  sprang  up  in  England  in  1865,  of  publishing 
magazines  consisting  of  signed  articles  by  men  of  most 
various  and  opposing  opinions.  The  old  type  of  magazine 
represented  a  single  definite  school  of  thought,  and  it 
was  read  chiefly  by  those  who  belonged  to  that  school. 
The  new  type  appeals  to  a  much  larger  and  more  varied 
circle,  and  its  editors  soon  discovered  that  few  things  were 
more  acceptable  to  their  readers  than  a  full  discussion  by 
eminent  men  of  the  great  problems  of  natural  and  revealed 
religion.  Opinions  the  most  conservative  and  the  most 
negative  appeared  side  by  side,  were  read  together,  and  are 
now  habitually  found  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  men  of  the 
most  different  opinions. 

Custom  so  soon  establishes  its  empire  over  men  that  we 
*  seldom  realise  the  greatness  and  the  significance  of  this 
,  change.  Every  Church — even  the  most  intolerant  one — 
seems  to  have  accepted  it  in  England.  On  hardly  any 
subject  has  the  Church  of  Koine  been  more  imperative  than 
in  her  efforts  to  prevent  her  members  from  coming  in 
contact  with  any  form  of  heterodox  opinion.  Many  of  my 
readers  will  probably  remember  how,  to  the  very  end  of  the 
temporal,  power  of  the  Pope,  English  newspapers  and 
magazines  at  liome  were  subject   to  a  stringent  censorship, 


426  DEMOCRACY   AND    LIBERTY 

and  continually  arrived  with  whole  passages  carefully 
excised,  lest  anything  inconsistent  with  the  doctrines  c_  the 
Church  should  penetrate  into  Kome,  even  in  a  foreign 
tongue  and  to  a  stranger  community.  In  French  Canada, 
where  the  old  spirit  of  Catholicism  probably  retains  a 
stronger  hold  over  the  people  than  in  any  other  country,  a 
stringent  censorship  of  the  Press  is  still  maintained.  In 
1869  there  was  a  case,  which  excited  much  attention  in 
England,  of  a  Canadian  who  was  excommunicated  and 
denied  Christian  burial  because  he  had  been  a  member 
of  a  Canadian  institute  which  had  refused  to  exclude 
from  its  library  books  and  journals  disapproved  of  by  the 
Church.  A  pamphlet  published  by  a  leading  member  of 
that  institute  in  defence  of  its  policy  was  condemned  in 
such  terms  that  every  Catholic  who,  after  being  properly 
warned,  retained  it  in  his  house  could  only  be  absolved 
by  the  bishop  or  his  vicars-general.  As  recently  as  1892 
a  sentence  was  read  in  all  the  Canadian  Catholic  churches 
forbidding,  under  penalty  of  refusal  of  the  Sacraments,  any 
Catholic  to  print,  sell,  distribute,  read,  or  possess  two 
Catholic  journals  which  had  offended  the  bishop.  Their 
offence  appears  to  have  been  that  they  had  published  and 
commented  on  a  gross  instance  of  clerical  immorality  which 
had  been  clearly  proved,  and  that  one  of  them  had  proposed 
to  publish  '  Les  Trois  Mousquetaires  '  of  Alexandre  Dumas.' 
In  England,  there  are  probably  few  houses  of  the  Catholic 
gentry  where  periodicals  may  not  be  found  in  which  men 
like  Herbert  Spencer  and  Huxley  expound  their  views  with 
perfect  frankness.  Among  the  contributors  to  these  maga- 
zines there  have  been  at  least  two  cardinals  and  many 
other  Catholic  divines. 

Men  will  differ  much  about  the  good  and  evil  resulting 
from  this  fact ;  but  it  at  least  indicates  a  great  change  of 
public  feeling  in  the  direction  of  religious  liberty,  and  it  is 
in  the  highest  degree  improbable  that  in  England,  and  in 

1  Goldwin  Smith's  Canada,  p.  15.  See,  too,  a  Canadian  book,  Doutre, 
Ruines  CUricales.  There  has  been  a  more  recent  case  of  a  Catholic  bishop  in 
Ireland  excommunicating  the  readers  of  a  newspaper  of  which  he  disapproved. 


PROGRESS   OF   RELIGIOUS   LIBERTY  427 

most  of  the  leading  countries  of  the  world,  theological 
opinions  could  be  again  repressed  on  the  ground  of  their 
theological  error.  It  is  possible,  however,  for  religious 
expression  and  worship  to  be  unfettered,  but  at  the 
same  time  for  its  professors  to  be  gravely  injured  by  dis- 
qualifications and  disabilities.  In  the  full  concession  of 
political  rights  to  Nonconforming  bodies,  England  has  been 
much  behind  some  other  nations.  The  United  States  led 
the  way,  and  one  of  the  articles  of  its  Constitution  declared 
in  clear,  noble,  and  comprehensive  language,  that  '  no 
religious  test  shall  ever  be  required  as  a  qualification  to  any 
office  or  public  trust  under  the  United  States.'  In  the 
words  of  Judge  Story,  '  The  Catholic  and  the  Protestant, 
the  Calvinist  and  the  Arminian,  the  Jew  and  the  infidel,  may 
sit  down  at  the  common  table  of  the  national  councils 
without  any  inquisition  into  their  faith  or  mode  of 
worship.'  '  In  France,  though  gross  religious  intolerance 
accompanied  and  followed  the  Revolution,  the  general 
principle  of  severing  political  privileges  from  theological 
beliefs  was  at  least  clearly  laid  down.  In  1789  the  National 
Assembly  threw  open  all  civil  and  military  posts  and 
privileges  to  Protestants,  and  in  1791  to  Jews  ;  and,  in 
spite  of  the  many  vicissitudes  which  French  government 
afterwards  experienced,  these  privileges  were  never  seriously 
infringed.  It  was  a  significant  fact  that  the  Jew  Cremieux 
was  a  member  of  the  Provisional  Government  of  1848.  The 
Belgian  Constitution  of  1831  followed  the  example  of  the 
United  States,  and  gave  Belgians  of  all  creeds  absolute 
religious  freedom  and  full  constitutional  privileges.  Prussia 
was  and  is  a  very  conservative  country,  but  in  the  Con- 
stitution of  1850  it  was  expressly  provided  that  civil  and 
political  rights  were  independent  of  religious  beliefs. 

In  England,  it  is  somewhat  humiliating  to  observe  how 
slowly  this  constitutional  equality  was  attained.  By  an 
Irish  Act  of  1793,  and  by  English  Acts  of  1813  and  1817,  all 
ranks  of  the  army  and  navy  were  gradually  opened  to 
Catholics  and  Dissenters ;  .while  the  abolition  of  Test  and 

1  Story  On  the  Constitution,  iii.  731. 


428  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Corporation  Acts  in  1828  placed  Protestant  Dissenters  on 
an  equality  with  the  members  of  the  Established  Church  in 
corporate  and  civil  offices.  Then  followed  the  Catholic 
Emancipation  Act  of  1829,  and  in  1833  and  1838  Acts 
were  carried  by  which  members  of  religious  bodies  who 
objected  to  oaths  were  admitted  on  their  affirmation  into  the 
House  of  Commons.  The  conflict  about  the  emancipation 
of  the  Jews  raged  long  and  fiercely ;  but  in  1839  they  were 
permitted  to  take  oaths  in  the  form  that  was  binding  on  their 
consciences,  in  1845  they  were  admitted  into  corporate 
offices,  in  1858  they  made  their  way  into  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  at  a  much  later  period  a  distinguished  living 
Jew  has  been  raised  to  the  peerage  and  made  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant of  his  county.  The  admission,  after  a  long  struggle, 
to  the  House  of  Commons  of  an  avowed  atheist,  in  the 
person  of  Mr.  Bradlaugh,  completed  the  work  of  abolishing 
religious  disqualifications  in  England. 

I  do  not  include  in  the  struggle  for  religious  liberty  such 
measures  as  the  abolition  of  compulsory  Church  rates,  the 
disestablishment  and  disendowment  of  the  Irish  Church, 
the  alterations  that  have  been  effected  in  the  law  of  tithes. 
These  seem  to  me  to  belong  to  a  different  category,  and 
must  be  regarded  as  episodes  in  the  conflict  between  the 
supporters  and  opponents  of  an  established  Church.  Among 
the  great  achievements  of  religious  liberty,  however,  may 
undoubtedly  be  counted  the  important  measure  carried 
by  Lord  John  Russell  in  1836,  enabling  Dissenters  to 
celebrate  their  marriages  in  their  own  chapels  and  by  their 
own  rites,  and  establishing  a  system  of  civil  marriage  for 
those  who  desired'  it,  and  also  a  comprehensive  and  secular 
system  for  the  registration  of  births,  deaths,  and  marriages. 
To  the  same  class  belongs  the  Act  of  1870  permitting 
scrupulous  unbelievers,  who  rejected  all  forms  of  oath,  to 
give  evidence  in  the  law  courts  on  affirmation,  the  penalty 
of  perjury  being  still  retained  as  a  protection  against  false 
witness.  The  measure  of  1880,  also,  which,  following  a 
precedent  that  had  long  been  established  in  Ireland, 
permitted     Nonconformist     burial     services     and     burials 


RELIGIOUS   TESTS   IN   UNIVERSITIES  429 

without  religious  services  in  parish  churchyards,  was  partly, 
but  not  wholly,  inspired  by  hostility  to  the  Established 
Church.  In  many  instances  a  deeper  and  holier  feeling 
made  Nonconformists  wish  to  be  laid  at  rest  with  parents  or 
ancestors  of  the  established  faith,  and  in  country  districts, 
where  no  other  burial-places  existed,  it  was  a  real  grievance 
that  Nonconformist  burials  could  only  be  effected  with  an 
Anglican  service. 

The  most  important,  however,  of  all  modern  conquests  of 
religious  liberty  have  been  those  which  placed  at  the  disposal 
of  men  of  all  creeds  the  best  education  the  nation  could 
afford.  The  great  work  of  the  establishment  of  undenomi- 
national primary  education  in  England  will  be  hereafter 
considered.  Its  accomplishment  had  been  preceded  by  that 
long  and  arduous  struggle  for  the  admission  of  Nonconfor- 
mists to  the  studies,  degrees,  and  emoluments  of  the  English 
universities  which  forms  one  of  the  noblest  pages  in  the 
history  of  the  Liberal  party,  when  English  Liberalism  was  at 
its  best.  The  rise  of  the  High  Church  party  in  1833  greatly, 
retarded  it,  and  to  the  last  that  party  strained  every  effort 
to  close  the  doors  of  higher  education  against  all  who  refused 
to  accept  the  Anglican  creed.  The  same  spirit  that  led 
ecclesiastics  in  the  eighteenth  century,  in  the  interests  of 
their  monopoly,  to  defend  the  law  which  degraded  the 
sacrament  into  an  office  test,  still  prevailed,  and  the 
scandalously  profane  system  of  compelling  boys  fresh  from 
school  to  purchase  their  admission  into  Oxford  by  signing 
the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  which  not  one  in  a  hundred  had 
seriously  studied,  was  strenuously  supported.  Dublin 
University  has  the  honourable  distinction  of  having  long 
preceded  the  English  universities  in  the  path  of  true 
Liberalism,  for  even  before  1793  Catholics  and  Noncon- 
formists were  admitted  among  its  students,  and  after  1793 
they  were  admitted  to  its  degrees,  though  not  to  its  scholar- 
ships and  fellowships.  In  the  Scotch  Universities,  also, 
there  was  no  religious  test  against  Dissenters.  In  Cambridge, 
Nonconformists  might  become  students,  but  no  one  could 
obtain  a  degree  without  subscribing  the  Thirty-nine  Articles. 


430  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

At  Oxford,  Nonconformists  were  repelled  on  the  very 
threshold,  for  the  subscription  was  exacted  at  matriculation. 
English  Dissenters  were  not  only  excluded  from  the  inesti- 
mable advantage  of  higher  education,  and  from  the  many 
great  prizes  connected  with  the  universities — they  were 
also  seriously  impeded,  by  the  want  of  a  university  degree, 
in  their  subsequent  professional  careers. 

This  last  grievance  was  removed  by  the  foundation  of 
the  London  University  in  1836.  Being  a  mere  examining 
body,  it  could  not  offer  the  teaching  advantages,  nor  did  it 
possess  the  splendid  prizes,  of  the  older  universities  ;  but  it  at 
least  conferred  degrees  which  were  highly  valued,  and  which 
were  encumbered  by  no  theological  test.  Measures  for 
opening  Oxford  and  Cambridge  to  the  Dissenters  were  again 
and  again  introduced  by  Liberal  ministers,  again  and  again 
carried  in  the  Commons,  again  and  again  rejected  in  the 
Lords.  In  1854,  Nonconformists  were  allowed  to  obtain 
the  B.A.  degree  in  the  old  English  universities,  but  they 
could  not  obtain  higher  degrees,  and  although  they  might 
compete  at  examinations  for  the  great  university  prizes, 
they  could  not  enjoy  them.  At  last,  in  1871,  a  great  measure 
of  enfranchisement,  which  was  originally  introduced  by  Mr. 
Coleridge,  and  had  failed  five  times  in  the  Lords,  became 
law,  opening  nearly  all  offices  and  degrees  in  the  universities 
without  theological  restriction.  Seven  years  later  the  few 
remaining  distinctions,  with  the  very  proper  exception  of 
degrees  and  professorships  of  divinity,  were  abolished  by 
a  Conservative  Government.  In  Dublin  University,  the 
grievance  of  the  restriction  of  fellowships  and  scholarships 
to  members  of  the  Established  Church  was  mitigated  in  1854 
by  the  institution  of  non-foundation  scholarships  open  to  all 
creeds,  and  the  whole  body  of  the  remaining  restrictions  was 
swept  away  by  the  Act  of  1873.  There  is  still,  it  is  true,  a 
Divinity  School  in  Trinity  College  for  the  benefit  of  candidates 
for,  orders  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  It  corre- 
sponds to  Maynooth,  which  is  exclusively  devoted  to  the 
education  of  priests,  and  which  was  set  up  and  established  by 
a  large  expenditure  of  public  money.  But,  with  the  exception 
of  the  divinity  professorships  connected  with   this   school, 


EFFECT   OF   ABOLITION   OF   TESTS  431 

every  post  in  the  great  Irish  university,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest,  is  now  open  to  the  members  of  all  religious 
creeds. 

The  long  delay  in  opening  the  English  universities  to 
Dissenters  has  been  a  great  misfortune.  It  shut  out  whole 
generations  from  one  of  the  best  boons  that  a  nation  could 
offer  to  her  children.  It  added  something  to  the  acerbity 
and  much  to  the  narrowness  of  the  Nonconformist  spirit, 
and  the  unworthy  and  reactionary  attitude  of  the  House  of 
Lords  on  this  and  on  kindred  religious  questions  contributed 
perhaps  more  than  any  other  cause  to  alienate  from 
that  House  the  Liberal  sentiment  of  England.  The  evils 
resulting  from  that  alienation  are  very  great,  though  there 
are  clear  recent  signs  that  it  has  been  diminishing.  The 
battle  of  religious  disqualification  is  now  substantially  won. 
The  balance  of  power  has  shifted.  Other  questions  have 
arisen,  and  the  dangers  to  be  feared  and  to  be  guarded 
against  lie  in  other  directions.  But  the  bias  that  was 
formed,  the  passions  that  were  generated  by  bygone  contests, 
are  not  wholly  extinct,  and  they  make  it  more  difficult  to 
save  the  State  from  the  dangers  of  an  unbridled  democracy. 

In  the  universities,  the  evils  that  were  predicted  from  the 
abolition  of  tests  have  never  taken  place.  Many  and  various 
opinions  are  openly  avowed,  and  truth  has  gained  much  by 
the  avowal ;  but  the  religious  sentiment  has  not  decayed,  and 
it  is  certainly  not  less  genuine  because  it  is  no  longer 
fortified  by  privilege,  or  connected  with  interested  and 
hypocritical  assents.  While  the  foundation  by  private 
munificence  of  denominational  colleges  within  an  unsectarian 
university  has  preserved  the  best  features  of  the  old  system, 
the  juxtaposition  of  opposing  creeds  has  produced  no  disorder, 
and  university  sentiment  speedily  accepted  the  changed 
situation.  It  was  once  my  privilege  to  receive  an  honorary 
degree  from  the  University  of  Oxford  in  company  with  a 
great  and  venerable  writer,  who  had  long  been  the  most 
illustrious  figure  in  English  Unitarianism,  as  well  as  one  of 
the  chief  defenders  of  a  spiritualist  philosophy.  I  can  well 
remember  the  touching  language  in  which  Dr.  Martineau 
then    described  the   dark  shadow   which    his   exclusion    on 


432  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

aocount  of  his  faith  from  English  university  life  had  thrown 
oyer  his  youth,  and  the  strange  feeling  with  which  he  found 
himself  entering,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  an  honoured  and 
invited  member,  where  fifty  or  sixty  years  before  he  and  all 
other  Dissenters  had  been  so  rigidly  proscribed. 

The  force  and  steadiness  of  the  current  which  has,  during 
the  last  half-century,  been  moving  in  the  direction  of  the 
establishment  of  religious  liberty  and  of  the  abolition  of 
religious  disqualifications  cannot  be  mistaken.  It  has  been 
accompanied  by  a  corresponding  movement  in  favour  of  an 
enlargement  of  the  lines  of  the  Established  Church.  I  do 
not  think  that  the  hold  of  this  Church  upon  the  affections 
of  the  English  people  has,  in  the  present  generation,  been 
really  weakened,  although  some  of  the  forces  opposed  to  it 
have  acquired  additional  strength,  and  although  the  growth 
within  its  borders  of  a  ritualistic  party  may  very  possibly 
one  day  lead  both  to  disruption  and  disestablishment.  But 
the  lines  of  defence  and  of  attack  have  been  somewhat 
changed.  Both  the  doctrine  that  a  State  establishment  of 
religion  is  an  essentially  anti-Christian  thing,  and  the  doctrine 
that  every  nation  is  bound  in  its  corporate  capacity  to  profess 
.  a  religion,  and  that  the  maintenance  of  an  established  Church 
is  therefore  the  first  of  national  duties  have,  I  think,  lost 
much  of  their  old  power.  The  belief  that'  the  Church,  as  a 
continuous  organisation,  has  the  same  indefeasible  right  to 
its  tithes  and  glebes  as  a  private  individual  to  the  property 
which  he  has  earned  or  inherited,  and  the  belief  that  the 
diversion  of  property  from  religious  to  secular  purposes  is  an 
act  of  sacrilege,  have  certainly  not  passed  away,  but  they  are 
no  longer  governing  forces  in  English  politics. 

The  main  defence  of  the  Church  of  England  as  an 
establishment  now  rests  upon  its  utility.  It  is,  it  is  said,  a 
great  corporation,  which  is  indissolubl}7  bound  up  with  the 
best  elements  in  the  national  life  and  history,  which  has 
shown  itself  in  these  latter  days  as  far  as  possible  from 
dormant  and  effete,  and  which  is  exercising  over  a  vast  area 
and  in  multifarious  ways  a  beneficent,  moralising,  and 
spiritualising  influence.       If  its  revenues  in  the  aggregate 


ESTABLISHED   CHURCHES 


433 


seem  large,  no  other  revenues  are  so  little  abused,  are  so 
constantly  associated  with  moral  and  useful  lives,  are  so 
largely  and  so  steadily  employed  for  the  benefit  of  the 
community.  Its  parochial  system  places  in  the  poorest  and 
most  unattractive  parish  an  educated  and  cultivated  resident 
gentleman,  who  is  not  dependent  on  his  parishioners,  and 
whose  whole  life  is  spent  in  constant  intercourse  with  the 
poor,  in  constant  efforts  to  improve  their  condition,  to  raise 
their  morals,  to  console  them  in  their  troubles.  Like  the 
dew  of  heaven,  the  silent  continuous  action  of  this  system 
falls  over  great  tracts  of  human  life  and  suffering  which  the 
remedies  of  the  politician  can  never  reach.  There  are  no 
more  beautiful  or  more  useful  lives  than  those  which  may  be 
often  found  in  some  backward  and  deserted  district,  where  the 
parish  clergyman  and  his  family  are  spreading  around  them 
a  little  oasis  of  cultivation  and  refinement,  and,  by  modest, 
simple,  unobtrusive  and  disinterested  work,  continually  alle- 
viating suffering  and  raising  the  moral  level  of  those  among 
whom  they  labour.  What  a  contrast  do  they  often  present 
to  the  noisy  demagogue,  to  the  epicurean  party  gambler, 
who  is  seeking  for  votes  or  power  by  denouncing  them  !  It 
is  impossible  to  doubt  that  the  whole  of  this  system  would 
be  greatly  impaired  if  the  Church  were  broken  into  fragments, 
and  if  its  ministers  degenerated  into  mere  narrow  sectarians, 
representing  a  lower  plane  of  education  and  refinement,  and 
depending  for  their  subsistence  on  the  good  pleasure  of  their 
parishioners. 

And  the  parochial  system  is  but  one  of  the  many  benefits 
that  may  be  traced  to  the  Establishment.  The  maintenance 
of  a  learned  clergy,  who  play  a  great  part  in  the  fields  of 
literature  and  scholarship  ;  the  cathedral  system,  which  adds 
so  largely  to  the  splendour  and  beauty  of  English  life  ;  the 
existence,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  of  an  order  of  men  to 
whom  British  subjects  of  all  creeds  and  classes  have  a  right 
in  time  of  trouble  to  appeal ;  the  wider  latitude  of  opinion 
which  an  established  Church  seldom  fails  to  give ;  the  im- 
portance of  a  State  connection,  both  in  restraining  the  excesses 
of  sacerdotal  tyranny  and  in  diminishing  the  temptations  to 
vol.  I.  ff 


434  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 

clerical  demagogism,  are  all  advantages  which  may  be  truly 
alleged  and  largely  amplified.  Many  of  them  extend  far 
beyond  the  limits  of  convinced  Anglicans,  and  affect  most 
beneficially  the  whole  national  life.  Is  it  the  part  of  a  true 
statesman  to  destroy  or  weaken  a  machine  which  is  doing  so 
much  good  in  so  many  ways  ?  Is  it  probable  that  its  revenues 
would  be  more  wisely  or  more  usefully  employed  if  they  were 
flung  into  the  political  arena,  to  be  struggled  for  by  contend- 
ing parties  ? 

But  in  order  to  strengthen  these  lines  of  defence  two 
things  are  necessary.  The  one  is,  that  the  disadvantages 
attending  the  existence  of  an  established  Church  should  be 
reduced  to  the  smallest  possible  limits ;  the  other  is,  that 
the  benefits  of  the  establishment  should  be  as  largely  as 
possible  extended.  The  first  object  has  been  attained  by  the 
complete  abolition  of  religious  disqualifications  and  disabili- 
ties. These  were  once  defended  as  inseparable  from  an 
establishment,  and  the  best  fortifications  for  its  defence. 
They  are  now  more  justly  looked  upon  as  the  most  serious 
arguments  against  it,  for  they  were  restrictions  and  injuries 
imposed  on  different  classes  of  the  community  in  order  that 
it  might  subsist.  As  we  have  seen,  it  has  been  one  of  the 
great  works  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  sweep  these  dis- 
qualifications away. 

The  other  object  is  to  comprehend  the  largest  possible 
portion  of  the  English  people  in  the  Established  Church. 
In  this  respect  reformers  are  following  faithfully  the  root 
idea  of  the  Church,  which  was  intended  to  be  a  national, 
or,  in  other  words,  a  representative,  Church,  representing 
and  including  the  two  great  sections  of  the  community 
that  were  separated  from  the  See  of  Borne.  One  of  these 
sections,  though  repudiating  the  pretensions  of  the  Papacy, 
leant  strongly  towards  the  theology  of  Eome ;  the  other 
frankly  adopted  the  principles  of  the  Keformation  on  the 
Continent.  The  composite  and  representative  character 
of  the  Church  is  clearly  exhibited  in  the  Prajrer  Book,  which, 
if  it  does  not  contain  positive  contradictions  of  definite  doc- 
trine, at  least  includes  very  evident  contradictions  of  tendency. 

The  attempt  of  the  Tudor  statesmen  to  include  the  whole 


THE   CHUECH    AND   NONCONFORMITY  435 

body  of  the  English  people  in  the  National  Church  failed,  and 
the  attempt  of  the  statesmen  of  the  Revolution  to  bring 
back  the  great  Puritan  body  by  an  Act  of  Comprehension  was 
equally  unsuccessful.  The  amalgamation  of  the  different 
Protestant  organisations  is  now  plainly  impossible,  and  if  it 
were  possible  it  would  be  of  very  doubtful  benefit.  It  is  true, 
indeed,  that  the  original  grounds  of  dissension  have  in  a 
great  measure  disappeared.  The  rigidities  and  the  distinctions 
of  Calvinistic  theology,  which  were  once  deemed  so  tran- 
scendently  important,  have  lost  their  old  hold  on  the  minds  of 
men,  and  an  amount  of  ornament  and  ritual  and  music  has 
crept  into  Puritan  worship  which  would  have  aroused  the 
horror  of  the  early  Puritans.  The  Ritualistic  party  in  the 
Anglican  Church  is  very  widely  separated  from  Protestant 
Nonconformity,  but  there  is  no  real  difference  of  principle 
between  the  Evangelical  section  of  the  Church  of  England 
and  the  great  body  of  the  Protestant  Dissenters.  With  many 
the  separation  is  a  mere  matter  of  taste,  some  persons  pre- 
ferring the  written  liturgy,  and  some  the  extemporaneous 
prayers.  Others  object  to  the  Church  of  England,  not  be- 
cause their  own  type  of  theology  has  not  a  fully  recognised 
place  within  its  borders,  but  because  it  also  admits  doctrines 
or  practices  which  they  condemn.  With  others,  again,  the 
separation  depends  wholly  on  the  accident  of  birth  and 
education.  Through  habit,  or  interest,  or  affection,  men  pre- 
fer to  remain  in  the  ecclesiastical  organisation  in  which  they 
have  been  brought  up,  and  with  which  they  are  not  dissatis- 
fied, rather  than  go  over  to  another  to  which  they  have  no 
objection.  The  case  of  Scotland  shows  how  it  is  possible  for 
three  Churches  to  exist  in  separation  which  are  identical  in 
their  form  of  worship,  identical  in  their  ecclesiastical  organi- 
sation, and  all  but  identical  in  their  doctrine. 

The  decay  of  the  doctrinal  basis  of  English  Nonconformity, 
though  it  is  not  likely  to  lead  to  any  amalgamation  of 
Churches,  is  having  one  very  mischievous  consequence.  It 
is  giving  Nonconformity  a  far  more  political  character  than 
in  the  past,  and  a  political  character  which  is  sometimes 
singularly  unworthy  and  unscrupulous.     Envy  becomes  the 

i-  i-  2 


436  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

guiding  motive,  a  desire  to  break  down  and  diminish  the 
Established  Church  the  chief  ground  of  political  action.  A 
characteristic  though  an  extreme  example  of  this  spirit  was 
exhibited  by  certain  representatives  of  Welsh  Nonconformity, 
who  actually  opposed  a  Bill  to  enable  the  bishops  more 
easily  to  suppress  immorality  among  their  clergy,  lest  it 
should  tend  to  increase  the  efficiency  of  the  Establishment.1 
In  some  periods  of  past  history  England  owed  much  to  the 
political  action  of  Nonconformists,  and  they  raised  very 
appreciably  the  moral  level  of  English  politics.  Those  who 
have  studied  their  conduct  and  their  alliances  in  the  present 
generation  will  scarcely  attribute  to  them  such  an  influence. 

But  although  it  is  not  possible,  and  probably  not  desirable, 
that  the  Established  Church  should  absorb  rival  organisations, 
the  steady  tendency  of  the  present  generation  has  been  to 
expand  the  circle  of  permissible  opinions.  An  Act  of  1865 
modified  materially  the  form  of  subscription  to  the  Articles. 
Instead  of  being  obliged  to  subscribe  to '  all  and  everything '  in 
the  Thirty-nine  Articles  and  the  Prayer  Book,  the  clergyman 
is  now  bound  only  to  a  belief  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Church 
as  a  whole.  The  gross  tyranny  which,  under  the  name  of 
the  indelibility  of  orders,  made  it  illegal  for  a  clergyman  who 
had  found  it  impossible  conscientiously  to  continue  in  the 
Church  to  adopt  any  other  profession,  was  abolished  in  1870, 
in  spite  of  the  strenuous  opposition  of  Bishop  Wilberforce, 
and  successive  judicial  decisions  by  the  Privy  Council  have 
established  the  legal  right  of  each  of  the  three  parties  in 
the  Church  to  hold  their  distinctive  doctrines.  No  feature 
of  the  modern  Anglican  Church  is  more  conspicuous  than 
the  great  variety  of  opinions  that  have  now  a  fully  recog- 
nised place  within  its  limits. 

This  movement  has  been  much  more  a  lay  movement 
than  a  clerical  one,  and  it  is  mainly  due  to  the  influence 
which  establishment  gives  to  the  lay  element  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Church.     It  forms  a  remarkable  contrast  to  the 

1  See  the  debates  on  the  Clergy  Discipline  (Immorality)  Bill  of  1892.  See, 
too,  the  remarks  of  Sir  R.  Temple  on  this  discussion.  Life  in  Parliament,  pp. 
341-43. 


SWEDEN   AND   AUSTRIA  437 

growing  ascendency  of  ultramontanism  in  the  Church  of 
Home,  but  it  is  in  full  accordance  with  the  spirit  that  is 
prevailing  in  the  legislation  and  the  public  opinion  of  nearly 
all  countries.  The  tendency  to  multiply  restrictions,  which 
is  so  clearly  seen  in  many  departments  of  modern  legislation, 
does  not  appear  in  the  sphere  of  religion.  The  belief  both 
in  the  certainty  and  in  the  importance  of  dogma  has  de- 
clined ;  nearly  everywhere  great  fields  of  human  action  are 
being  withdrawn  from  the  empire  of  the  Churches,  and  the 
right  of  men  to  believe  and  profess  various  religious  doctrines 
without  suffering  molestation  or  losing  civil  privileges  is  now 
very  generally  recognised.  In  some  countries  and  districts 
the  law  is  certainly  in  advance  of  public  opinion.  In  some 
cases,  where  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  nation  belong 
to  one  creed,  there  are  restraints  upon  proselytism ;  and 
dissenters  from  the  established  creed,  or  from  a  limited 
number  of  recognised  creeds,  are  forbidden  to  set  up  churches, 
though  they  may  meet  in  private  houses  ;  but  with  the  single 
exception  of  Russia,  all  the  countries  which  in  the  first 
decades  of  the  century  were  most  intolerant  in  their  legisla- 
tion have  been  touched  by  the  new  spirit. 

In  Sweden,  not  many  years  ago,  every  administrative 
and  judicial  function  was  strictly  limited  to  the  professors  of 
the  Lutheran  creed.  Even  the  practice  of  medicine  and  the 
right  of  teaching  were  confined  to  them.  All  attempts  to 
induce  a  Lutheran  to  change  his  creed  were  penal  offences, 
severely  punished,  and  every  Swede  who  abandoned  the 
religion  of  his  country  was  liable  to  banishment  for  life.  It 
was  not  until  1860  that  the  existence  of  dissenting  bodies 
was,  under  severely  specified  conditions,  recognised  ;  but  in 
1862,  1870,  and  1873  laws  were  passed  permitting  Swedish 
Lutherans  to  join  other  religions,  and  opening  nearly  all 
public  posts  and  employments,  as  well  as  the  seats  in  the 
Legislature,  to  men  of  all  religions.1 

Austria,  again,  not  long  since  was  a  great  centre  of 
religious  and  political  reaction,  but  it  is  now  one  of  the  best- 

1  Block,  Diet,  de  la  Politique,  article  '  SiuVle.'    See,  too,  Dareste,  Les  Consti- 
tutions  Moderncs,  ii.  41,  42,  48,  51. 


438  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

governed  countries  in  Europe,  and  there  are  very  few  modern 
legislations  which  will  better  repay  study  than  that  of 
Austria  since  1860.  The  Concordat  of  1855,  which  secured 
the  Catholic  Church  a  monopoly,  has  been  annulled,  and  the 
Austrian  Constitution  makes  all  civil  and  political  rights 
independent  of  creed,  and  guarantees  to  all  subjects  perfect 
liberty  of  conscience  and  worship.  A  distinction,  it  is  true, 
is  drawn  between  recognised  and  unrecognised  religions. 
The  former,  by  the  organic  law  of  1867,  comprised,  in 
addition  to  Catholicism,  the  Protestant  religions  of  the 
Confession  of  Augsburg  and  of  the  Helvetic  Confession,  the 
Greek  Church,  and  the  Jewish  Synagogue ;  but  a  law  of 
1874  greatly  enlarged  the  circle,  by  providing  that  all  other 
creeds  might  obtain  a  full  legal  recognition  if  they  satisfied 
the  Minister  of  Public  Worship  that  there  was  nothing  in 
their  teaching,  worship,  or  organisation  contrary  to  law  or 
morals,  and  that  they  were  sufficiently  numerous  to  support 
a  Church.  These  recognised  religions  may  constitute  them- 
selves as  corporations,  regulating  their  own  affairs,  founding 
establishments,  and  exercising  publicly  their  religious  worship. 
The  adherents  of  religions  that  are  not  legally  recognised 
have,  however,  a  full  right  to  celebrate  their  worship  in 
private  houses,  provided  there  is  nothing  in  that  worship 
contrary  to  law  or  morals.  In  the  State  schools,  religious 
instruction  must  be  given  separately  to  the  scholars  of 
different  denominations  by  their  own  priests  or  pastors,  or 
by  lay  teachers  appointed  by  the  different  religious  bodies.  A 
valuable  and  most  significant  portion  of  the  law  of  1874  pro- 
vides that  the  ecclesiastical  power  must  never  be  used,  except 
against  the  members  of  the  Church  to  which  it  belongs,  and 
that  it  must  never  be  used  with  the  object  of  interfering  with 
the  observance  of  the  law,  or  the  acts  of  the  civil  power,  or 
the  free  exercise  of  any  civil  right.1 

Spain  and  Portugal  are  the  last  examples  that  need  be 
given    of   countries   in   which,    though    scepticism  and   in- 

1  See  Dareste,  Demombrynes.  There  is  an  admirable  series  of  papers 
examining  in  detail  the  Austrian  legislation  since  1860  in  the  Revue  de  Droit 
International  et  de  Legislation  comparie.  They  are  scattered  through  several 
volumes.     See  especially  torn.  viii.  pp.  502-5. 


SPAIN   AND   PORTUGAL 


439 


difference  are  very  rife,  the  whole  population,  with  infini- 
tesimal exceptions,  is  of  one  nominal  belief,  and  in  which 
the  steady  teaching  of  the  Church  and  many  generations  of 
intolerant  legislation  have  made  the  establishment  of  re- 
ligious liberty  peculiarly  difficult.  According  to  the  judg- 
ment of  those  who  are  best  acquainted  with  these  countries, 
there  exists  in  both  countries,  but  especially  in  Spain,  a 
strong  determination  to  secularise  the  government,  to  limit 
Church  property,  and  to  restrain  ecclesiastical  power, 
accompanied  by  much  indisposition  to  encourage  any 
multiplication  or  competition  of  religions.1  Few  countries 
have  witnessed,  in  the  present  century,  more  confiscations 
of  Church  property  than  Spain,  and  the  political  influence 
of  its  priesthood  is  very  small,  though  it  is  not  impossible 
that  the  establishment  of  universal  suffrage  in  1890 2  may 
tend  to  its  revival.  The  Catholic  religion  is  recognised  as 
the  religion  of  the  State,  but  it  is  provided  that  no  one  on 
Spanish  soil  may  be  molested  for  his  religious  opinions  and 
for  his  worship  as  long  as  he  respects  Christian  morality, 
though  '  the  public  manifestations  and  ceremonies  of  the 
State  religion '  alone  are  authorised.  Small  congregations 
of  Spaniards  who  dissent  from  the  Established  Church 
worship  freely  and  publicly  in  the  chief  towns. 

In  Portugal  the  law  is  very  similar.  The  Catholic  religion 
is  recognised  as  the  religion  of  the  kingdom  ;  all  others  are 
permitted  to  strangers,  and  they  may  have  edifices  destined  for 
their  worship,  but  they  must  not  have  externally  the  appear- 
ance of  churches.  '  No  one  may  be  molested  for  his  religion, 
provided  he  respects  that  of  the  State  and  does  not  offend 
public  morality.'  At  the  same  time,  a  Portuguese  who 
publicly  apostatises  from  the  Catholic  Church  is  punished 
by  twenty  years'  suspension  of  political  rights.3  The  priests 
have  also  in  Portugal  a  recognised  place  as  registering 
agents  at  elections  for  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and  these 
elections  conclude  with  a  religious  ceremony.4 

1  An  interesting  account  of  religion  in  Spain    will  be    found  in  Garrido, 
L'Espagne  Contemporainc,  pp.  123-02  (1862). 

2  See  Dareste,  i.  626.  3  Revue  de  Droit  International,  xx.  334. 
*  Demombrynes,  i.  495,  503-5,  510. 


440  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

It  will  be  evident,  I  think,  to  those  who  have  taken  an 
extended  survey  of  the  subject,  that  the  line  of  religious 
liberty  which  ought  to  be  drawn  in  any  country,  like  most 
other  political  lines,  is  not  an  inflexible  or  invariable  one, 
but  one  which  largely  depends  on  many  fluctuating  con- 
siderations. The  religious  legislation  of  a  country  where 
there  are  grave  differences  of  opinion  will  naturally  be 
somewhat  different  from  the  legislation  of  a  country  where 
there  is  a  practical  unanimity,  and  where  opposing  creeds 
can  only  be  introduced  by  immigration  or  by  proselytism 
from  without,  and  considerations  of  public  order  may  most 
legitimately  modify  and  limit  religious  legislation.  Reli- 
gious processions,  demonstrations,  or  controversies  in  the 
streets,  which  would  probably  produce  obstruction  or  riot,  or 
which  are  intended  to  injure  some  class  or  person,  or  which 
would  irritate  public  opinion,  may  be  most  properly  forbid- 
den, while  those  which  are  practically  harmless  are  allowed. 

There  is  a  broad  and  intelligible  distinction  between 
the  right  of  freely  expressing  religious  or  political  opinions 
in  churches  or  meetings  to  which  no  one  is  obliged  to 
come,  in  books  or  papers  which  no  one  is  obliged  to  read, 
and  the  right  of  expressing  them  in  the  public  streets, 
which  all  men  are  forced  to  use,  and  which  are  the 
common  property  of  all.  The  first  and  most  essential  form 
of  liberty  is  the  liberty  of  performing  lawful  business  with- 
out molestation  and  annoyance,  and  this  liberty  is  most  im- 
perfectly attained  when  it  is  impossible  for  men,  women,  or 
children  to  pass  through  the  streets  without  having  attacks 
upon  their  religious  belief  thrust  forcibly  upon  their 
attention.  In  most  countries  such  street  controversies  are 
rigidly  suppressed.  Where  they  are  permitted,  they  ought 
surely  to  be  deemed  a  matter  of  tolerance,  and  not  of  right ; 
to  be  regulated  in  each  case  according  to  special  circum- 
stances. Some  years  ago  it  was  the  habit  of  a  Protestant 
missionary  society  to  placard  the  walls  throughout  the 
Catholic  provinces  of  Ireland  with  questions  and  arguments 
subversive  of  the  Catholic  faith,  and  missionaries  might  be 
seen  driving  along  the  roads  throwing  controversial  leaflets 


RELIGIOUS   POLICY   IN   INDIA  441 

to  every  peasant  and  into  every  turf -basket  as  they  passed. 
In  my  own  judgment,  such  a  method  of  propagandism  ought 
not  to  have  been  permitted,  and  it  is  probable  that  most  of 
those  who  disagree  with  me  would  admit  the  principle  for 
which  I  am  contending,  if  the  arguments  that  were 
disseminated  had  been  directed  not  against  Catholicism,  but 
against  Christianity.  In  France,  where  a  stringent  law  for- 
bids meetings  in  the  streets,  it  has  been,  under  the  Republic, 
a  common  thing  to  see  profane  and  often  obscene  caricatures 
of  the  most  sacred  persons  and  incidents  in  the  Evangelical 
narratives  publicly  exposed.  The  prohibition  of  such  pla- 
cards in  the  streets  would  surely  not  be  a  violation,  but  a 
vindication,  of  liberty. 

In  India,  questions  of  religious  liberty  of  great  delicacy 
and  difficulty  have  arisen.  For  a  long  period  it  was  the 
steady  policy  of  the  British  Government  not  only  itself  to 
maintain  an  attitude  of  strict  religious  neutrality,  but  also  to 
discourage  proselytism  as  a  grave  danger  to  public  order. 
'  The  English,'  Lord  Macartney  declared,  '  never  attempt  to 
disturb  or  dispute  the  worship  or  tenets  of  others  ;  .  .  .  they 
have  no  priests  or  chaplains  with  them,  as  have  other  Euro- 
pean nations.'  In  1793,  when  the  charter  of  the  East  India 
Company  was  renewed,  Wilberforce  endeavoured  to  procure 
the  insertion  of  clauses  to  the  effect  that  it  was  the  duty  of 
the  English  to  take  measures  for  the  religious  and  moral 
improvement  of  the  natives  in  India,  and  that  the  Court  of 
Directors  should  for  that  purpose  send  out  and  maintain 
missionaries  and  schoolmasters,  as  well  as  chaplains  and 
ministers  for  those  of  their  own  creed.  Owing  to  the  strenuous 
resistance  of  the  East  India  directors  and  proprietors,  these 
clauses  were  struck  out  of  the  Bill  at  the  third  reading  ;  the 
Company  for  many  years  refused  to  grant  licenses  to  mission- 
aries, and  they  more  than  once  exercised  against  missionaries 
the  power  they  possessed  of  expelling  unlicensed  Europeans 
from  India.  It  was  not  until  1813  that  Parliament  broke 
down  the  barrier,  and  threw  open  the  doors  of  India  to  mis- 
sionary efforts.  It  did  so  in  spite  of  a  great  preponderance 
of   Anglo-Indian    opinion,  and  of   the  evidence  of   Warren 


442  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

Hastings,  and  this  measure  marks  most  conspicuously  the 
increasing  power  which  the  Evangelical  party  was  exercising 
in  British  politics.1 

But  although  India  was  from  this  time  thrown  open  to 
numerous  missionary  enterprises,  the  law  forbade  and  forbids, 
in  terms  much  stricter  than  would  be  employed  in  British 
legislation,-  any  word  or  act  which  could  wound  religious 
feelings,2  and  the  State  endeavours  to  maintain  its  own 
religious  neutrality,  and  to  abstain  as  far  as  possible  from  any 
act  that  could  conflict  with  the  religious  feelings,  observances, 
and  customs  of  the  subject  races.  It  has  not,  however,  always 
been  able  to  do  so.  It  seems  an  easy  thing  to  guarantee 
the  free  exercise  of  different  forms  of  worship,  but  grave  diffi- 
culties arise  when  these  religions  bring  with  them  a  code 
of  ethics  essentially  different  from  that  of  the  ruling  power. 
Probably  the  first  instance  in  which  the  British  Govern- 
ment undertook  to  prohibit  a  religious  observance  in  India 
was  in  1802,  when  Lord  Wellesley  suppressed  under,  severe 
penalties  the  sacrifice  of  children  by  drowning,  which  took 
place  annually  at  the  great  religious  festival  at  Saugor.  The 
slaughter  of  female  infants,  though  it  does  not  appear  to 
have  grown  out  of  religious  ideas,  was  fully  recognised  by 
Hindu  morals,  and  it  was  practised  on  such  a  scale  that 
within  the  memory  of  living  men  there  were  great  districts 
in  which  not  a  single  girl  could  be  found  in  many  villages.3 
English  law  has  made  this  act  a  crime,  and  some  legislation 
which  is  as  recent  as  1870  has  done  much  to  suppress  it. 
The  human  sacrifices  that  were  once  constantly  performed 
before  the  images  of  Kali,  and  were  not  unfrequent  at  other 
shrines,  have  been  abolished,  and  in  1829  Lord  William  ■ 
Bentinck  took  the  bold  and  most  beneficent  step  of  abolish- 
ing the  suttee,  or  the  practice  of  immolating  Hindu  widows 
on  the  funeral  piles  of  their  husbands. 

1  Strachey's  India  ;  Wilberforce's  Life,  ii.  24-28,  392-93  ;  iv.  101-26.  See, 
too,  on  the  history  of  the  relations  of  British  law  to  native  religions,  Kaye's 
Christianity  in  India,  and  Marshman's  Lives  of  Carey,  Marshman,  and 
Ward. 

2  Stephen's  History  of  Criminal  Lav-,  iii.  312-13. 

3  Strachey's  India,  pp.  290-91. 


SUPPRESSION  OF  THE  SUTTEE         443 

The  horrible  fact  that  several  hundreds  of  women  were 
annually  burnt  alive  within  the  British  dominions,  and  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  of  Calcutta,  had  long  occupied  the 
thoughts  of  British  governors,  but  the  practice  was  so  essen- 
tially a  religious  rite  that  for  a  long  time  they  did  not  venture 
to  forbid  it.  Lord  Cornwallis  directed  public  servants  to 
withhold  their  consent  from  the  ceremony,  if  it  was  asked  for, 
but  he  prohibited  them  from  taking  any  official  step  to  pre- 
vent it.  Lord  Wellesley  consulted  the  judges  about  the 
possibility  of  suppressing  it,  but  in  their  opinion  such  a  step 
would  be  extremely  dangerous.  In  1813,  Lord  Minto,  while 
disclaiming  all  intention  of  forbidding  it,  or  of  interfering 
with  the  tenets  of  the  native  religions,  undertook  at  least  to 
introduce  some  limitations  and  regulations  with  the  object 
of  diminishing  its  barbarity.  According  to  the  new  regula- 
tions, it  could  only  be  practised  after  communication  with 
the  magistrates  and  principal  officers  of  police,  and  in  the 
presence  of  the  police,  and  they  were  directed  to  ascertain 
that  the  widow's  act  was  purely  voluntary,  that  no  stupefy- 
ing or  intoxicating  drugs  were  employed,  that  there  was  up 
to  the  very  last  no  violence  or  intimidation,  that  the  victim 
was  not  under  the  age  of  sixteen  and  not  pregnant.  There 
does  not,  however,  appear  to  have  been  much  diminution  of 
the  practice,  and  in  1828,  the  year  preceding  its  suppression, 
it  was  officially  reported  that  463  widows  had  been  burnt, 
287  of  them  being  in  the  Calcutta  division  alone.1  In  the 
ten  previous  years  the  annual  number  of  immolations  is  said 
to  have  averaged  not  less  than  600. 

The  measure  of  Lord  William  Bentinck  excited  many 
fears  and  much  opposition.  It  was  argued  that  the  practice 
of  suttee  had  existed  for  countless  centuries  in  India  ;  that 
it  was  in  the  eyes  of  the  Hindus  '  a  religious  act  of  the 
highest  possible  merit,'  a  '  sacred  duty  '  and  a  '  high  privi- 
lege ;  '  that  to  prohibit  it  was  a  direct  and  grave  interference 
with  the  religion  of  the  Hindus,  a  manifest  violation  of  the 
principle  of  complete  religious  liberty  which  the  British 
Government  had  hitherto  maintained  and  guaranteed.    Great 

1  Mill's  History  of  India,  ix.  1H9. 


444  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

fears  were  entertained  that  the  sepoy  army  in  Bengal  might 
resent  the  suppression  ;  and  it  was  remembered  that  the 
religious  element  was  believed  to  have  contributed  largely 
to  the  formidable  sepoy  mutiny  which  had  taken  place  in 
1806  at  Vellore,  in  Madras.  Lord  William  Bentinck,  how- 
ever, wisely  took  the  officers  of  the  Bengal  Army  into  his 
confidence,  and  he  was  convinced  by  their  answers  that 
there  was  no  real  danger  of  revolt.  He  was  encouraged 
by  the  fact  that  the  custom  chiefly  prevailed  among  the 
effeminate  and  timid  inhabitants  of  Bengal ;  that  it  was 
almost  or  altogether  unknown  in  great  districts  of  India ; 
that  the  Mohammedans  in  bygone  days  had  successfully 
interfered  with  Hindu  rites  to  a  far  greater  extent  than  he 
proposed.  The  judges  were  now  of  opinion  that  the  suttee 
might  be  safely  abolished,  and  the  determined  policy  of  Lord 
W.  Bentinck  completely  triumphed.  Suttee  was  forbidden 
in  Bengal  in  1829,  in  the  Madras  and  Bombay  provinces  in 
the  following  year.  There  were  a  few  successful  and  un- 
successful attempts  to  evade  the  new  law.  There  was  one 
somewhat  serious  riot.  There  was  a  strong  remonstrance, 
drawn  up  by  leading  Hindus.  There  was  an  appeal  to  the 
Privy  Council  in  England ;  but  when  the  impotence  of  all 
resistance  was  established,  the  natives  speedily,  though 
reluctantly,  acquiesced.  In  a  few  years  suttee  became  a 
mere  tradition  of  the  past,  and  under  English  influence 
even  native  princes  made  laws  for  its  suppression.1 

At  the  same  time  the  Government  took  the  utmost  pains 
to  impress  upon  the  natives  that  they  entertained  no  desire 
of  disturbing  their  faith.  Eormal  declarations  had  been 
repeatedly  made  that  the  laws  of  the  Shastra  and  of  the 
Koran  would  be  maintained,  and  that  Hindu  and  Moham- 
medan would  be  as  fully  protected  in  the  free  exercise  of 
their    religions    as    under   a    Hindu    or    a    Mohammedan 

1  See  Boulger's  Lord  William  Bentinck,  pp.  77-111,  and  Mill's  History  of 
British  India,  ix.  184-92.  Sir  John  Strachey,  in  the  excellent  book  which  he 
published  in  1888,  says  :  '  The  prohibition  of  the  burning  of  widows  was  and  is 
utterly  disapproved  by  all  but  a  small  minority  of  Hindus.  I  do  not  believe 
that  the  majority,  even  of  the  most  highly  educated  classes,  approve  it ' 
(India,  pp.  353-54). 


PILGRIM   TAX.      INHERITANCE 


445 


Government.  The  law  specially  recognised  and  protected 
the  system  of  caste,1  and  the  rites  of  idolatrous  worship  were 
to  a  large  extent  endowed.  A  tax  was  levied  on  pilgrimages, 
and  chiefly  expended  in  defraying  the  expenses  of  the  temple 
worship.  The  worship  of  Juggernaut  and  many  less  im- 
portant shrines  was  subsidised,  and  the  Government  ex- 
ercised a  superintending  care  over  the  management  of  the 
temples  and  over  the  vast  endowments  which  had  been 
from  time  immemorial  connected  with  them  ;  prevented  the 
misappropriation  of  their  revenues  ;  sent  soldiers  and  police 
to  protect  or  dignify  idolatrous  processions,  and  contributed 
very  largely  by  wise  and  honest  administration  to  the 
prosperity  of  the  great  religious  establishments. 

The  Evangelical  party  in  England  agitated  fiercely 
against  these  measures,  and  their  influence  gradually  pre- 
vailed. In  1833  the  Home  Government  was  induced  to 
order  the  abolition  of  the  pilgrim  tax  and  the  discontinuance 
of  all  connection  between  the  Government  and  idolatrous 
ceremonies.  For  five  years  this  order  seems  to  have  been 
little  more  than  a  dead-letter,  but  in  1838  more  efficacious 
measures  were  taken.  The  management  of  the  whole  system 
of  idolatrous  worship,  and  of  the  revenues  connected  with  it, 
passed  exclusively  into  the  hands  of  the  believers,  and  all 
superintending  and  supporting  connection  on  the  part  of  the 
Government  was  withdrawn. 

Another  difficult  and  dangerous  question,  in  which  con- 
siderations of  humanity  and  justice  were  on  one  side,  and 
old-established  religious  custom  was  on  the  other,  was  the 
question  of  inheritance.  By  the  Mohammedan  and  the 
Hindu  laws  of  inheritance  apostasy  was  equivalent  to  civil 
death,  and  the  convert  lost  all  rights  of  heritage.  This  law 
had,  in  the  eyes  of  the  believers,  a  religious  character ;  and 
the  Hindu  law  of  inheritance  had  an  especially  close  con- 
nection with  the  Hindu  religion,  as  property  descended 
conditionally  on  the  performance  of  religious  rites,  which 
were  believed  to  be  of  transcendent  importance  for  the 
benefit   of   the   dead.     Lord   "William    Bentinck,    who   had 

1  37  George  III.  c.  142,  sect.  13. 


446  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

already  immortalised  himself  by  the  suppression  of  the 
suttee,  resolved,  if  possible,  to  abolish  the  penalty  which  the 
native  laws  imposed  on  conversion,  and  in  1832  he  intro- 
duced a  regulation  to  that  effect  into  Bengal.  After  long 
discussion  and  much  opposition  this  policy  at  last  triumphed, 
and  an  Act  of  Parliament  of  1850  abolished  through  the 
whole  of  India  every  law  and  usage  inflicting  forfeiture  of 
property  on  account  of  apostasy  or  exclusion  from  any  faith. 
Another  measure  conceived  in  the  same  spirit,  and  directed 
against  some  peculiar  Hindu  superstitions,  punished  with 
imprisonment  any  one  who  tried  to  intimidate  another  by 
threatening  to  make  him  the  object  of  divine  displeasure. 
The  marriage  of  Hindu  widows  also  was  legalised.  Native 
converts  to  Christianity  were  enabled  to  obtain  a  divorce 
from  husbands  or  wives  who  had  deserted  them  on  account 
of  their  conversion.  The  rights  of  succession  and  the  power 
of  bequest  of  natives  who  did  not  belong  to  any  native  reli- 
gious community  were  fully  recognised.1 

These  facts  show  sufficiently  that,  while  the  general 
principle  of  protecting  the  worship,  revenues,  and  usages 
of  native  religions  is  fully  recognised,  there  has  been  an 
increasing  tendency  in  Indian  legislation  to  allow  considera- 
tions of  humanity,  justice,  and  individual  liberty  to  override 
religious  considerations.  The  great  sepoy  mutiny  of  1857, 
which  was  mainly  due  to  religious  fanaticism,  sufficiently 
disclosed  the  extreme  dangers  of  the  subject.  After  the 
suppression  of  the  mutiny,  also,  there  was  a  moment  of  great 
peril.  A  powerful  party,  supported  by  the  high  authority  of 
Colonel  Herbert  Edwardes,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of 
Indian  soldiers,  attributed  the  mutiny  to  the  British  Govern- 
ment having  neglected  their  duty  of  bringing  home  Christian 
truths  to  the  native  population,  and  Colonel  Edwardes  issued 
a  memorandum  urging  that  the  true  policy  to  be  pursued 
was  '  the  elimination  of  all  unchristian  principles  from  the 

1  Stephen's  History  of  Criminal  Law,  iii.  321 ;  Kaye's  Christianity  in 
India;  Leslie  Stephen's  Life  of  Sir  James  Stephen,  pp.  259-GO.  See,  too,  an 
admirable  chapter  on  '  Our  Eeligious  Policy  in  India  '  in  Sir  Alfred  Lyall's 
Asiatic  Studies. 


ANGLO-INDIAN   LAW  447 

government  of  India.'     To  carry  out  this  policy  he  desired 
that  the  Bible  should  be  compulsorily  taught  in  all  Govern- 
ment schools ;  that  all  endowments  of  native  religions  from 
public  money,  and  all  legal  recognition  of  caste,  should  cease  ; 
that  the  English  should  cease  to   administer   Hindu   and 
Mohammedan  law,  and  to  countenance  Hindu  and  Moham- 
medan  processions.     This    memorandum   received    a    con- 
siderable amount  of  partial  or  unqualified  support,  but  wiser 
counsels  ultimately  prevailed.     In   the  Queen's   proclama- 
tion of  October  1858  there  is  a  remarkable  paragraph,  which 
is  said  to  have  been  due  to  the  direct  action  of  the  Queen 
herself,  and  which  did  very  much  to  establish  permanent 
quiet  in  India.  '  We  do  strictly  charge  and  enjoin,'  it  said, '  on 
all  those  who  may  be  in  authority  under  us,  that  they  abstain 
from  all  interference  with  the  religious  beliefs  and  worship 
of  any  of  our  subjects,  on  pain  of  our  highest  displeasure.'  ' 
The  policy  indicated  in  these  words  has  been,  on  the 
whole,  carried  out  with  signal  sagacity  and  success,  and  the 
large  introduction  of   natives  into   high    offices  under   the 
Crown  has  had  a  reassuring  influence  on  the  native  mind. 
Before  the  mutiny  there  were  no  natives  on  the  bench  of 
any  supreme  court  of  India,  or  in  the  Legislative  Council, 
or  in  the  higher  branches  of  the  Civil  Service.     Since  the 
mutiny  all  these  great  departments  have  been  thrown  open 
to   them.      British    law  protects  carefully   the   moral    and 
social   types   that   grow   out    of   the   native   religions,    and 
especially  the  Hindu   conception    of   the  family,   which  is 
widely  different  from  that  of  Christian  nations ;   and  it  is 
mainly  through  respect   for   native  ideas   that    the  Indian 
penal  code  treats  adultery  as  a  criminal  offence,  and  punishes 
it  with  imprisonment    that  may  extend  to  five  years.2     At 
the  same  time,  the  prohibition  of  the  suttee  and  of  infanticide 
has  introduced  grave  changes  even  into  this  sphere.     The 
law  already  violates  Hindu  notions  by  permitting  the  re- 
marriage of  widows  and  modifying  the  rules  of  succession, 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  many  years  will  pass  before  the 

1  Bosworth  Smith's  Life  of  Lawrence,  ii.  325  20. 
'-'  Stephen's  Criminal  Lair,  iii.  318. 


448  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

pressure  of  philanthropic  European  opinion  leads  to  a 
prohibition  of  the  horrible  custom  of  child  marriage,  under 
which  girls  of  ten  or  twelve  years  are  assigned  as  wives  to 
old,  worn-out,  and  perhaps  dying  men.  In  the  protected 
native  States  the  British  Government  has  repeatedly  inter- 
vened for  the  purpose  of  putting  down  infanticide,  suttee, 
slavery,  the  punishment  of  alleged  witches,  and  punishment 
by  torture  or  mutilation.1 

The  educational  policy  of  the  Government  also,  which 
was  chiefly  adopted  at  the  instigation  of  Sir  Charles  Wood 
in  1854,  and  which  has  since  then  been  energetically  and 
successfully  pursued,  cannot  fail  to  have  a  real,  though  indi- 
rect and  unintended,  influence  on  religious  belief.  The  first 
principle,  it  is  true,  of  that  policy  is  that  '  the  ruling  power 
is  bound  to  hold  itself  aloof  from  all  questions  of  religion.' 
The  universities,  in  which  the  educational  system  culminates, 
are  purely  secular  examining  bodies,  modelled  after  the 
London  University  ;  and  while  grants  in  aid  are  accorded  to 
all  private  educational  establishments  which  impart  a  good 
secular  education,  are  under  competent  management,  and 
are  open  to  inspection  by  Government  officers,  the  State 
proclaims  and  steadily  acts  upon  the  principle  of  rigidly 
abstaining  from  all  interference  with  the  religious  teaching 
of  these  establishments.  But  many  of  the  schools  and 
colleges  that  have  earned  grants  in  aid  are  missionary 
establishments.  Pure  secular  education,  which  the  Govern- 
ment especially  encourages,  is  as  repugnant  to  Mohammedan 
as  to  Catholic  ideas ;  the  mixture  of  classes  and  creeds, 
which  the  new  system  fosters,  breaks  down  social  divisions 
that  are  closely  connected  with  religious  beliefs  ;  and  the  mere 
spread  of  scientific  conceptions  of  the  universe,  of  European 
habits  of  thought  and  standards  of  proof,  must  do  much  to 
shatter  the  fantastic  cosmogonies  of  the  Hindu  creeds,  and 
produce  a  moral  and  intellectual  type  profoundly  different 
from  that  of  the  old  believers.  Education  as  yet  touches 
only  a  small  fraction  of  the  great  Indian  people ;  but  in  this, 
as  in  other  ways,  contrary  to  its  own  wishes,  the  influence  of 

1  Warner's  Protected  Princes  of  India,  pp.  292-95. 


EISE   OF   MORMONISM  449 

the  Government  is  opposed  to  the  religion  of  the  natives. 
It  is  not  probable  that  it  is  preparing  the  way  for  Christian 
theology,  but  it  is  tending  to  undermine  or  attenuate  old 
beliefs  and  to  introduce  Western  types  of  thought  and 
morals.  '  Few  attentive  observers  of  Indian  history,'  writes 
Sir  Henry  Maine,  '  can  fail  to  see  that  the  morality  of 
modern  indigenous  literature  tends  to  become  Christian 
morality,  which  has  penetrated  further  than  Christian 
belief.' l 

Another  case  in  which  the  principles  of  religious  liberty 
have  come  into  collision  with  principles  of  morality  and 
public  expediency  may  be  found  in  Mormonism  in  America. 
Polygamy  was  not  an  original  doctrine  of  the  Mormon 
faith :  it  was  not  until  1843,  thirteen  years  after  the 
publication  of  the  Book  of  Mormon,  that  Joseph  Smith 
professed  to  have  a  revelation  authorising  it,  and  it  was  not 
until  1852  that  it  was  openly  acknowledged  to  the  Gentile 
world.  Long  before  this  period,  however,  the  Mormons 
had  experienced  a  large  amount  of  severe  and  illegal  mob 
persecution.  The  rise  and  rapid  progress  of  a  new  religion 
combining  to  an  extraordinary  degree  the  element  of  fraud 
with  the  elements  of  fanaticism  soon  aroused  a  fierce 
resistance,  which  was  entirely  unrestrained  by  the  provisions 
of  the  Constitution  giving  unrestricted  right  of  religious  be- 
lief and  profession. 

In  its  first  form  Mormonism  was  simply  a  society  of 
men  believing  in  the  divine  mission  and  revelations  of 
Joseph  Smith,  baptised  for  the  dead  in  a  Church  which  he 
founded  and  ruled,  placing  their  property  at  his  disposal, 
holding  some  very  materialistic  views  about  the  nature  ol 
the  Divinity,  and  also  a  strange  notion  that  Christ  had 
preached  in  America,  after  His  crucifixion,  to  Children  of 
Israel  who  already  peopled  that  continent.'2  However 
eccentric    might   be    these    opinions,    Mormonism    in    its 

1  Ward's  Heign  of  Queen  Victoria,  i.  462.  There  is  an  excellent  chapter 
on  Indian  Education  in  Sir  John  Strachey's  India.  See,  too,  an  interesting 
Blue  Book  on  '  The  llesults  of  Indian  Administration  during  the  past  Thirty 
Years'  (1889),  pp.  10-18. 

-  This  is  stated  in  the  Book  of  Mormon. 
VOL.  I.  <:  (l 


450  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

general  aspect  was  a  sect  not  wholly  differing  from  many 
others,  and  it  could  move  freely  within  the  wide  limits 
which  the  American  Constitution  accorded  to  religious 
developments.  The  Mormons  were  first  concentrated  in 
considerable  numbers  in  the  town  of  Kirtland,  in  Ohio,  but 
they  soon  migrated  to  the  thinly  populated  district  called 
Jackson  County,  in  Missouri,  where  about  1,200  were  esta- 
blished. In  obedience  to  a  revelation  of  Joseph  Smith,  they 
purchased  a  large  tract  of  land,  and  streams  of  fanatics 
poured  in,  boasting  loudly  that  the  land  was  to  be  given  to 
them  as  an  inheritance, 

The  old  settlers,  however,  resented  bitterly  the  intrusion 
^x>f  this  sinister  element,  and  after  a  long  series  of  acts  of 
violence  and  several  vicissitudes,  the  Saints,  now  numbering 
about- 12,000,  were  compelled  to  cross  the  Mississippi  into 
Illinois,  where  they  built  the  town  of  Nauvoo.  They  soon 
organised  a  powerful  militia,  established  a  regular  govern- 
ment, and  displayed  to  an  extraordinary  degree  those  indus- 
trial qualities  for  which  they  have  always  been  remarkable. 
For  a  few  years  their  progress  was  uninterrupted.  A  vast 
temple  consecrated  to  their  worship  was  erected,  and  they 
grew  every  month  in  numbers,  power,  and  wealth  ;  but  the 
same  causes  that  aroused  hostility  in  Missouri  made  them 
unpopular  in  Illinois,  and  it  was  strengthened  by  a  well- 
founded  belief  that  the  sect  was  moving  in  the  direction 
of  sexual  license.  Internal  dissension  also  appeared ;  riots 
broke  out,  and  the  State  authorities  intervened.  Joseph 
Smith  and  his  brother  surrendered  to  stand  their  trial  on 
the  charge  of  having  instigated  an  attack  on  the  office  of  a 
hostile  newspaper,  and  were  placed  in  prison.  Then  followed 
one  of  those  tragedies  which  have  always  been  peculiarly 
common  in  America :  the  prison  was  stormed  and  captured 
by  a  hostile  mob,  and  Joseph  Smith  was  shot  dead.  This 
last  event  took  place  in  June  1844. 

But  the  new  Church  survived  its  founder,  and  the 
election  of  Brigham  Young  placed  at  its  head  a  man  of 
very  superior  powers,  who  exercised  an  almost  undisputed 
authority   till   his   death   in    1877.     It  was  surrounded  by 


UTAH 


451 


numerous  and  bitter  enemies,  who  were  utterly  unrestrained 
by  any  considerations  of  law,  and  after  many  months  of 
trouble  and  violence,  after  the  loss  of  many  lives  and  the 
endurance  of  terrible  sufferings,  the  Mormons  who  had  not 
already  fled  from  Nauvoo  were  driven  forcibly  across  the 
Mississippi.  They  had,  however,  before  this  time  taken 
measures  for  a  migration  which  is  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able incidents  in  modern  history.  Inspired  by  a  passionate 
fanaticism  that  seems  strangely  out  of  place  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  and  in  an  intensely  industrial  society,  they 
resolved  to  cross  the  Rocky  Mountains,  to  traverse  a  space 
of  no  less  than  1,000  miles,  and  to  establish  their  Church  far 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  United  States,  in  a  wild  and  desert 
country,  inhabited  only  by  roving  bands  of  savage  Indians. 
This  daring  scheme  was  executed  with  extraordinary  skill, 
resolution,  and  perseverance,  and  in  1847  and.  1848  several 
thousands  of  fugitives  planted  the  nucleus  of  a  great  State 
on  the  borders  of  the  Salt  Lake. 

There  is  no  other  instance  in  history  in  which  a  religious 
fanaticism  was  so  closely  blended  with  an  intense  industrial 
spirit,  and  the  speed  with  which  the  new  colonists  trans- 
formed a  barren  waste,  built  and  organised  a  great  city,  and 
planted  in  this  far-off  land  all  the  elements  of  civilisation,  is 
one  of  the  wonders  of  American  history.  Immigrants  poured 
in  by  thousands,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  new  Church  would 
at  last  be  suffered  to  develop  its  own  type  of  life  and  belief 
undisturbed.  But  the  ill-fortune  that  had  hitherto  pursued 
it  continued.  The  discovery  of  Calif ornian  gold  drew  the 
stream  of  white  emigration  across  the  territory  of  the  Salt 
Lake,  the  Treaty  of  1848  with  Mexico  placed  the  Mormon 
home  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  United  States,  and  Ari- 
zona and  New  Mexico  grew  up  on  its  southern  borders. 

The  Mormons  desired  to  form  themselves  into  a  separate 
State  under  the  name  of  Deseret,  or '  The  Land  of  the  Honey- 
Bee,'  and  if  they  had  been  able  to  do  so  they  would  have  ob- 
tained almost  absolute  power  of  self-legislation  ;  but  Congress 
refused  to  recognise  them,  and  in  1850  the  Mormon  district 
was  organised  into  the  Territory  of  Utah.     The  position  of  a 


452  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

Territory  is  very  different  from  that  of  a  State,  for  the  chief 
executive  officers  in  it  are  appointed  by  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  and,  although  a  local  legislative  body  exists, 
Congress  retains  great  powers  of  legislation  and  control. 

Brigham  Young  was  appointed  the  first  governor,  though 
he  was,  a  few  years  after,  removed  on  account  of  his  resistance 
to  the  Federal  authorities.  For  a  long  time  the  Mormon 
priesthood  were  omnipotent  in  Utah.  As  might  have  been 
expected,  their  main  object  was  to  baffle  ah1,  interference  on 
the  part  of  the  Federal  Government  and  to  protect  themselves 
from  Gentile  intrusion;  while  their  missionaries  preached 
their  doctrines  far  and  wide,  and  many  thousands  of  immi- 
grants from  England  and  Wales,  from  the  Scandinavian 
countries  in  Europe,  and  from  other  portions  of  the  United 
States,  traversed  the  vast  expanse  of  desert,  and  brought  to 
the  new  colony  their  strong  arms,  their  burning  enthusiasm, 
and  their  complete  surrender  of  all  individual  will  and  judg- 
ment to  the  orders  of  the  Mormon  chief.  The  Federal  officers 
who  were  sent  to  Utah  found  themselves  practically  power- 
less in  the  face  of  a  unanimous  public  feeling.  All  the 
subordinate  functionaries  and  all  the  jurymen  were  Mormons. 

The  tide,  however,  of  Gentile  emigration  had  set  in  for 
the  West,  and  emigrants  who  were  not  Mormons  began  to 
come  to  a  territory  where  all  the  first  difficulties  of  settle- 
ment had  been  overcome.  They  were  naturally  far  from 
welcome  ;  in  1857  a  large  party  were  massacred  at  a  place 
called  Mountain  Meadows,  and  although  Indians  were  the 
chief  agents  in  the  crime,  it  was  at  last  clearly  traced  to  a 
Mormon  source.  It  was  not,  however,  till  nearly  twenty 
years  after  it  took  place  that  the  chief  Mormon  culprit  was 
brought  to  justice.1  Many  minor  acts  of  violence  appear  to 
have  been  committed,  and  as  long  as  the  juries  consisted 
of  Mormons  it  was  found  impossible  to  punish  them.-  But 
the  completion  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railway,  and  the  dis- 
covery of  some  rich  silver  and  lead  mines,  strengthened  the 
Gentile  immigration,  and  it  was  vaguely  computed,  about 

1  Many  particulars  about  this  remarkable  case  will  be  found  in  an  article 
in  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  October  15,  1895 


SHOULD   POLYGAMY   BE   TOLERATED  ?  453 

1890,  that  there  Were  some  50,000  Gentiles  in  Utah  and 
about  110,000  Mormons.1 

But  before  this  time  the  existence  and  the  rapid  increase 
of  a  polygamous  community  in  America  greatly  occupied 
American  opinion,  and  different  religious  bodies  were  urging 
the  duty  of  suppressing  it.  There  was,  however,  grave 
difference  of  opinion  on  the  subject.  Deplorable  as  was 
the  appearance  of  a  polygamist  sect  in  the  midst  of  a 
Christian  land,  there  were  those  who  contended  that  poly- 
gamy among  the  Mormons  ought  to  be  tolerated,  as  Chris- 
tian Governments  had  always  tolerated  it  among  Hindus 
and  Mohammedans.  It  was  clearly  the  offshoot  of  a  religious 
system  resting  on  a  religious  doctrine,  and  it  was  a  funda- 
mental principle  of  the  United  States  to  give  all  religions  the 
most  ample  scope  for  their  development.  Polygamy,  these 
reasoners  observed,  prevails  over  a  vast  proportion  of  the 
human  race.  It  is  supported  by  clear  and  incontestable  Old 
Testament  authority,  and  it  is  not  very  clearly  condemned 
in  the  New  Testament.  When  it  is  the  acknowledged  doc- 
trine of  a  well-defined  Church  it  is  undoubtedly  an  evil,  but 
it  is  much  less  dangerous  than  when  it  is  irregularly  practised 
in  a  generally  monogamous  society.  It  does  not  produce  the 
same  confusion  of  properties  and  families,  the  same  deception, 
or  the  same  social  stigma  and  oppression.  Much  was  said 
of  the  duty  of  the  Federal  Government  to  intervene  on  behalf 
of  the  oppressed  women,  who  were  degraded  by  polygamy  to 
an  inferior  and  servile  condition.  It  is  impossible,  however, 
to  overlook  the  curious  and  significant  fact  that  the  Mormons 
were  the  first,  or  almost  the  first,  people  to  give  the  political 
suffrage  to  women  ;  that  female  suffrage  existed  among  them 
for  many  years ;  and  that  it  proved  so  favourable  to  poly- 
gamy that  its  abolition  by  the  Congress  was  one  of  the 
measures  for  suppressing  that  custom.  In  the  words  of  one 
of  the  latest  American  writers  on  this  subject,  '  woman  suf- 
frage existed  in  Utah  for  seventeen  years,  and  proved  to  be 
one    of   the  strongest  bulwarks  of  polygamy.'     'For  more 

1  Encyclopedia  AmericciTia,  art.  'Mormonism.'     The  same  well-informed 
writer  computes  the  whole  number  of  Mormons  at  at  least  2">0,000. 


454  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

than  a  quarter  of  a  century  the  Mormon  Church  fought,  with 
every  weapon  that  it  could  command,  the  laws  directed 
against  its  favourite  institution.  One  by  one  new  and  more 
vigorous  penalties  were  enacted  by  Congress  against  poly- 
gamy. Finding  women  the  most  ardent  champions  of  the 
vicious  practice  (owing  to  their  stronger  religious  convictions) , 
Congress  in  1887  took  away  their  right  of  suffrage.' ! 

In  the  face  of  such  facts  it  was  very  difficult  to  contend 
that  polygamy  was  generally  unpopular  among  the  Mormon 
women.  It  was  certain  that  women  bore  their  full  propor- 
tion among  the  Mormon  converts  and  the  Mormon  devotees, 
and  there  was  strong  evidence  to  support  the  conclusion  that 
they  were  in  general  contented  with  their  lot.  Marriage 
usually  took  place  very  early.  The  wives  were  persuaded 
that  their  state  in  a  future  world  depended  on  the  happiness 
they  procured  their  husbands  in  this  ;  and  it  was  part  of  a 
Mormon's  religious  duty  to  live  equally  with  his  wives,  and 
abstain  from  favouritism.  If  they  did  not  observe  this  duty, 
they  were  publicly  reprimanded.2  The  Mormons,  it  was  said, 
only  asked  to  be  left  alone.  They  had  gone  forth,  at  the  cost 
of  terrible  hardships,  into  a  distant  and  lonely  wilderness  to 
practise  their  religion  in  peace,  and  whatever  civilisation 
existed  in  Utah  was  wholly  their  work.  Nor  was  that  civili- 
sation, even  from  a  moral  point  of  view,  a  contemptible  one. 
Whatever  else  might  be  said  of  polygamy,  it  could  not  be 
denied  that  it  had  extinguished  in  Utah  forms  of  vice  that 
were  the  canker  of  all  other  American  cities.  Prostitution, 
adultery,  illegitimate  births,  abandoned  children,  were  un- 
known among  the  Mormons,  and  the  statistics  of  crime 
showed  that,  judged  by  this  test,  they  were  far  superior  to 
the  Gentiles  around  them.  In  intelligent,  well-organised,  and 
successful  industry  they  had  never  been  surpassed.     Work 

1  Mr.  Glen  Miller  in  the  Forum,  Dec.  1894. 

2  See  an  interesting  description  of  Mormon  life  and  ideas,  by  Comte 
d'Haussonville,  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  November  15,  1882  ;  and  also  an 
article  called  '  A  New  View  of  Mormonism,'  byB.  W.  Barclay,  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century,  January  1884.  Mr.  Barclay  quotes  official  statistics  showing  how 
immensely  greater  is  the  proportion  of  crimes  among  the  Gentiles  than  among 
the  Mormons  at  Utah.     See,  too,  Captain  Burton's  City  of  the  Saints. 


CRUSADE   AGAINST   POLYGAMY 


455 


was  taught  as  the  first  of  duties.  Large  families,  which  in 
old  countries  indicate  a  low  industrial  civilisation,  had  a  dif- 
ferent character  in  a  new  country,  where  the  cost  of  labour 
was  enormously  great.  Each  member  worked  in  his  own 
department  for  the  whole  family,  and  each  family  became 
almost  wholly  self-subsisting.1 

Had  a  community  of  this  kind,  it  was  asked,  no  claim  on 
the  forbearance  of  the  Government '?  Ought  it  to  be  treated 
as  a  mere  seed-plot  of  vice  ?  Was  it  in  accordance  with  the 
religious  liberty  which  was  so  solemnly  guaranteed  by  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States ;  was  it  becoming  in  a 
great  and  free  democracy  to  enter  into  a  persecuting  crusade 
against  a  Church,  however  erroneous,  against  a  practice, 
however  deplorable,  which  was  inseparably  connected  with  a 
religious  doctrine  ?  And  was  such  a  crusade  likely  to  have 
any  other  consequence  than  to  make  martyrs,  and  to  kindle 
this  strange  fanaticism  into  a  fiercer  flame  ? 

As  early  as  1862  there  had  been  a  law  against  polygamy, 
and  attempts  had  sometimes  been  made  to  enforce  it,  but 
they  proved  almost  absolutely  abortive.  All  the  juries  were 
Mormons,  and  in  the  space  of  eighteen  years  there  had  not  been 
more  than  two  convictions  for  polygamy.  After  the  termina- 
tion of  the  great  Civil  War  public  opinion  was  more  strongly 
directed  to  the  subject,  and  more  than  one  stringent  law 
against  polygamy  was  made.  The  Mormons  asserted  that 
polygamy  was  a  tenet  of  their  faith,  and  therefore  entitled 
to  the  protection  which  the  Constitution  accorded  to  all 
forms  of  religious  belief ;  but  the  Supreme  Court  decided  that 
no  such  article  of  faith  could  claim  protection  under  the 
Constitution.2  In  1879  the  Government  of  the  United  States 
attempted  to  enlist  the  services  of  other  countries  in  the  cru- 
sade, and  a  circular  letter  was  sent  to  the  American  ministers 
in  Europe,  calling  the  attention  of  the  European  Govern- 
ments to  .the  American  enactments  against  polygamy,  and 
asking  them  to  prevent  the  preaching  of  Mormonism  and  the 
emigration  of  professed  Mormons  to  the  United  States  ;  but 

1  Comte  d'Haussonvillc. 

'-'  Dickinson,  New  Light  on  Mormonism,  p.  174. 


456  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

the  Governments  of  the  countries  where  Mormon  mission- 
aries had  been  most  successful  replied  that  they  could  not 
undertake  to  inquire  into  the  religious  belief  of  emigrants. 
The  laws  of  1871  and  of  1874  proved  almost  as  inoperative 
as  that  of  1862.  Federal  judges  were  sent  down  to  try  cases, 
but  they  could  try  them  only  with  juries  that  were  mainly  or 
exclusively  Mormon,  and  it  was  almost  impossible  to  induce 
such  a  jury  to  convict  in  a  case  of  polygamy. 

Eeligious  opinion,  however,  in  the  United  States  urged  on 
the  Government,  and  in  1882  they  began  a  life-and-death 
struggle  for  the  purpose  of  stamping  out  polygamy.  The 
Edmunds  law,  which  was  carried  after  long  discussion  in 
that  year,  is  a  striking  illustration  of  the  extreme  energy 
which  democratic  communities  can  throw  into  repressive 
legislation.  Utah  had  been  steadily  denied  the  privileges  of 
a  State  constitution,  and  its  internal  affairs  were  therefore 
under  the  full  control  of  Congress.  The  Edmunds  law 
provided  that  in  all  the  '  Territories '  of  the  United  States 
bigamy  and  polygamy  should  be  punished  with  a  fine  of  not 
more  than  500  dollars  and  imprisonment  up  to  five  years. 
In  order  to  overcome  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  proof  of 
marriage,  it  provided  that  any  one  cohabiting  with  more  than 
one  woman  shall  be  punishable  by  imprisonment  up  to  six 
months,  or  by  a  fine  not  exceeding  300  dollars,  or  by  both 
punishments,  at  the  discretion  of  the  court ;  and  that  on 
trials  for  bigamy,  polygamy,  or  unlawful  cohabitation,  any 
juryman  might  be  challenged  who  had  been  living  in  the 
practice  of  any  of  these  acts,  or  who,  without  being  himself 
a  polygamist,  '  believes  it  right  for  a  man  to  have  more  than 
one  living  and  undivorced  wife  at  the  same  time,  or  to  live 
in  the  practice  of  cohabiting  with  more  than  one  woman. 
Every  man  as  he  entered  the  jury-box  might  be  questioned 
on  oath  as  to  his  belief  and  practice  in  these  matters. 
Polygamists  and  their  wives  were  at  the  same  time  deprived  of 
all  power  of  voting  at  elections,  and  were  incapacitated  from 
holding  any  public  place  of  trust  or  emolument.  All  registra- 
tion and  election  offices  in  the  Territory  of  Utah  were 
declared  vacant,  and  a  commission  of  five  persons,  appointed 


CRUSADE   AGAINST   POLYGAMY  457 

by  the  President  of  the  Republic,  was  sent  down  to  super- 
sede all  Mormon  functionaries  in  matters  of  election,  and  to 
appoint  new  ones.1 

Under  the  influence  of  this  most  Draconic  law  polygamy 
was  for  the  first  time  severely  punished.  All  who  practised 
and  all  who  sympathised  with  it  being  removed  from 
the  juries,  many  convictions  were  obtained.  In  the  year 
ending  in  September  1891  there  were  no  less  than  109 
convictions.2  In  general  the  Mormons  appear  to  have 
welcomed  their  long  sentences  of  imprisonment  in  the 
spirit  of  martyrs,  declaring  that  they  must  obey  God 
rather  than  men,  and  women  constantly  refused  to  give 
evidence  that  could  convict  their  husbands.  Under  the 
disenfranchising  clauses  of  the  Edmunds  law  about  12,000 
men  and  women  were  deprived  of  their  votes.3 

As,  however,  the  actual  practice  of  polygamy  was  by  this 
law  required  for  disfranchisement,  power  still  remained  with 
the  Mormons,  and  Mormons  who  believed  in  polygamy,  though 
they  were  not  known  to  be  themselves  polygamists,  were 
almost  always  elected.  But  a  long  series  of  other  measures 
were  taken  to  break  dowm  their  political  power.  By  the  Federal 
law  which  I  have  already  mentioned  female  suffrage  in  Utah 
was  abolished,  on  the  ground  that  it  contributed  to  strengthen 
Mormonism.  It  was  decided  that,  the  Mormon  Church  being 
'  utterly  subversive  of  good  morals  and  the  well-being  of 
society,'  no  alien  who  is  a  Mormon  could  be  naturalised,  and 
the  funds  of  the  Mormon  society  for  encouraging  immi- 
gration were  confiscated.  A  local  test  oath  was  imposed  as  a 
qualification  for  the  suffrage,  obliging  every  voter  to  swear 
that  he  is  not  a  bigamist  or  polygamist,  or  a  member  of 
any  order  which  encourages  and  practises  plural  marriage  ; 
and  the  Supreme  Court,  in  1890,  determined  that  this  test 
was  not  contrary  to  the  Constitution.  The  criminal  law 
against  polygamy  was  steadily  enforced,  and  it  was 
strengthened    by    new    and    stringent    provisions    directed 

1   See  the  text  of  the  Edmunds  law  in  Dickinson,  New  Light  on  Mormonism 
pp.  150-53.  '-'  Political  Science  Quarterly,  18'Jl,  p.  Tils. 

3  Mr.  Barclay  says  16,000  (Nineteenth  Century,  January  1884). 


458  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

against  unwilling  witnesses,  compelling  a  full  registration 
of  all  marriages,  depriving  illegitimate  children  of  rights  of 
inheritance,  and  treating,  in  the  spirit  of  the  old  Puritan 
legislation,  both  adultery  and  simple  fornication  as  criminal 
offences.1  These  last  measures,  of  course,  both  were  and 
were  intended  to  be  purely  partial  in  their  operation.  No  one 
would  have  dreamed  of  applying  them  to  Chicago  or  New 
York.  But  by  such  means  the  Mormon  ascendency  in  Utah 
was  broken,  and  in  the  election  of  1890  the  Gentile  element; 
for  the  first  time,  obtained  control  of  its  municipal  government.2 
The  Mormon  Church  was  itself  pronounced  to  be  an  illegal 
corporation,  its  property  was  forfeited  or  escheated  ;  and  the 
forfeiture  appears  to  have  been  severely  enforced.  As  one  of 
the  latest  American  writers  on  the  subject  says,  '  Officials 
sent  from  the  Eastern  States  to  official  positions  in  the 
Territory  as  a  reward  for  party  services,  found  indiscriminate 
denunciation  of  the  Mormons  an  excellent  method  of  per- 
petuating political  power.  It  is  notorious  that  not  a  few  who 
came  to  Utah  poor  men  enriched  themselves  at  the  expense 
of  the  Mormon  Church.  The  shrinkage  of  the  Church 
property  escheated  by  the  Government  would  itself  unfold  a 
tale  of  official  rapacity,'  and  there  were  '  ugly  hints  of 
corruption  '  extending  even  to  the  judicial  bench.3 

It  would  require  an  amount  of  local  knowledge  to  which 
I  can  make  no  pretence,  and  which  only  an  American 
writer  is  likely  to  possess,  to  estimate  with  any  confidence 
the  present  and  future  effects  of  this  crushing  legislation. 
The  accounts  are  somewhat  conflicting,  and  for  some  time 
after  the  enactment  of  the  Edmunds  law  very  competent 
American  writers  were  exceedingly  desponding  about  the 
results.     They  complained  that  polygamy  had  never  been 

1  The  text  of  the  very  severe  and  comprehensive  Act  of  1884  is  given  in 
Dickinson,  pp.  153-60.  It  enacts,  among  other  things  (ss.  19,  20),  '  that  who- 
ever commits  adultery  shall  be  punished  by  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary 
not  exceeding  three  years,'  and  '  that  if  an  unmarried  man  or  woman  commits 
fornication,  each  of  them  shall  be  punished  by  imprisonment  not  exceeding  six 
months,  or  by  fine  not  exceeding  100  dollars.' 

2  Political  Science  Quarterly,  1890,  pp.  371-72. 

3  Forum,  December  1894,  p.  4(34. 


EFFECTS  OF  THE  CRUSADE  459 

more  defiantly  preached  and  more  fearlessly  practised ; 
that  it  seemed  rather  to  increase  than  diminish  ;  that  the 
whole  body  of  the  Mormons  acted  with  a  perfect  discipline 
in  obedience  to  the  commands  of  their  chief,  voting 
together,  controlling  their  schools,  and  electing  their  chief 
officers.  Having  been  refused  the  right  of  State  indepen- 
dence for  more  than  twenty  years  after  their  population 
and  wealth  were  sufficient  to  entitle  them  to  it,  they  made 
it  an  object  to  secure  a  predominance  in  the  State  of 
Nevada,  and  soon  acquired  there  an  important  influence. 
They  were  said  to  hold  the  balance  of  power  in  Idaho  and 
Arizona,  and  to  be  rapidly  increasing  in  the  Territories  of 
Washington,  Montana,  and  Wyoming,  as  well  as  in  Colorado 
and  New  Mexico.  Rumours  of  another  distant  migration 
were  sometimes  heard  among  them.  They  were  accused 
of  an  implacable  hatred  to  the  Federal  Government,  and 
the  opinion  was  openly  expressed  by  many  of  their  enemies 
that  even  if  Mormonism  cleared  itself  from  all  suspicion 
of  polygamy,  it  should  be  exterminated  at  any  cost ;  that 
it  was  leading  rapidly  to  civil  war  in  Utah ;  that  if  it  were 
not  effectually  suppressed  the  Mormon  leaders  would,  in  a 
few  years,  rule  every  State  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi.1 

Whether  these  statements  were  exaggerated  when  they 
were  originally  made  I  am  not  able  to  say.  There  is,  how- 
ever, evidently  another  side  to  the  question,  and  during  the 
last  few  years,  and  especially  since  1891,  the  aspect  of  the 
Mormon  question  in  America  has  considerably  changed. 
Many  powerful  influences  have  been  favouring  the  policy 
of  the  Government.  It  was  noticed  that  among  the  more 
wealthy  Mormons  there  was  a  growing  disposition  to  secede. 
Such  men  naturally  desired  to  escape  the  strict  exaction  of 
tithes  for  the  benefit  of  the  Mormon  Church,  and  they  felt 
more  keenly  than  poor  men  both  the  legal  penalties  and 
the  social  stigma  attaching  to  their  creed.     Polygamy  had 

1  Encyclopedia  Americana,  art.  '  Mormonism  ; '  Dickinson's  New  Light  on 
Monnonhm,  pp.  170-80,  1!)7  ;  Codman's  Solution  of  the  Mormon  Problem. 
There  are  some  striking  and,  I  think,  just  remarks  on  the  persecuting  spirit 
which  has  been  displayed  in  the  English  press  on  the  subject  of  Mormonism 
in  Mill  On  Liberty,  pp.  K>3-fi7  (ed.  1859). 


460  dp:mocracy  and  liberty 

proved,  from  an  economical  point  of  view,  possible,  and 
even  successful,  as  long  as  the  family  remained  fully  self- 
supporting  and  all  its  members  were  engaged  in  different 
industries,  but  it  became  far  too  expensive  a  luxury  to 
subsist  long,  under  the  conditions  of  American  life,  in  an  idle, 
leisured  class.  More  frequent  and  more  intimate  contact 
with  the  Gentile  world,  and  the  rise  of  a  new  generation 
who  had  but  little  of  the  fierce  fanaticism  of  the  early 
converts,  had  their  influence,  and  many  of  the  younger  Mor- 
mons were  manifestly  indisposed  to  an  institution  which 
brought  with  it  severe  social  and  legal  penalties,  and 
obstructed  and  hampered  them  at  every  step  of  their 
career.  While  such  a  feeling  was  growing,  a  formidable 
schism  broke  out  in  the  Church.  A  party  called  Josephites, 
or  '  Latter-day  Saints  of  the  Reorganised  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,'  appeared,  and  is  said  soon  to  have  enlisted  20,000 
followers.  It  was  led  by  Joseph  Smith,  a  son  of  the  founder 
of  Mormonism,  and  it  denounced  polygamy  as  a  departure 
from  the  original  faith.1 

All  these  things  were  preparing  a  great  change  in  the 
Mormon  Church  ;  and  the  laws  against  polygamy  appear  to 
have  found  considerable,  though  for  the  most  part  silent, 
support  among  the  Mormons  themselves.  After  some 
hesitation  their  leaders  recognised  the  fact.  The  abstract 
lawfulness  of  this  institution  is  still  a  part  of  the  Mormon 
creed,  but  its  practice  under  present  circumstances  has  not 
only  been  suspended,  but  been  forbidden  in  the  Mormon 
Church.  In  September  1890  the  head  of  that  Church 
publicly  announced  a  revelation  warning  Latter-day  Saints 
against  contracting  any  marriage  forbidden  by  the  law 
of  the  land.  Whether  this  abandonment  is  final  and 
quite  sincere  it  is  difficult  to  say,  but  Mr.  Glen  Miller,  whom 
I  have  already  quoted  as  a  late  authority  on  the  subject, 
firmly  believes  in  its  reality.  '  The  institution  of  polygamy,' 
he  says,  '  would  have  gone  down  eventually  of  its  own 
weight  under  the  rush  of  Gentile  immigration.  The  action 
of  the  Church  only  hastened  the  inevitable.     In  the  days  of 

1  Dickinson,  pp.  215-16. 


POLYGAMY   ABANDONED  46  I 

its  strongest  hold  less  than  10  per  cent,  of  the  adult  males 
of  the  Territory  lived  in  polygamy.  No  "  plural  "  marriages 
in  any  form  are  now  taking  place  in  Utah.  It  is  a  sin  within 
the  Mormon  Church,  as  within  any  other,  to  live  with  more 
than  one  woman.  The  young  man  who  should  attempt  it 
would  find  himself  and  his  mistress  (for  such  any  "  plural  " 
wife  would  be  regarded)  subject  to  the  same  social  ostracism 
from  the  Mormons  as  from  society  at  large.'  At  the  same 
time,  this  writer  observes,  '  there  has  been  a  complete  cessa- 
tion of  persecution  for  polygamy,  and  numbers  of  old-time 
offenders  have  resumed  relations  with  their  "plural"  wives 
with  practical  immunity  from  punishment.  But  the  prop 
of  polygamy — its  social  respectability  and  exaltation  as  a 
religious  virtue — has  been  taken  away.  These  old  poly- 
gamists  visit  their  younger  wives  precisely  as  a  married  man 
in  an  Eastern  community  might  consort  with  a  mistress — 
quietly  and  stealthily,  not  openly  or  boastfully,  as  formerly." 

The  sharp  division  between  the  Mormons  and  the  Gen- 
tiles, which  a  few  years  ago  was  general,  is  fast  disappear- 
ing. Intermarriages  are  not  unfrequent.  They  mingle 
largely  in  the  public  schools.  They  are  united  in  all  forms 
and  institutions  of  business  ;  and  what  is  perhaps  even 
more  important,  the  Mormons  have  ceased  to  act  politi- 
cally as  a  purely  isolated  body,  and  have  thrown  them- 
selves cordially  into  the  great  party  contests  of  the  United 
States.1  They  are  said  to  be  exhibiting  to  a  full  measure 
that  flexibility  of  adaptation  which  is  so  remarkable  in  the 
American  people,  and  which  enables  them  with  a  rapidity 
scarcely  known  in  Europe  to  accommodate  themselves  to 
'hew  conditions. 

The  authorities  in  the  Federal  Government  have  shown 
themselves  very  ready  to  accept  the  submission.  In  the 
September  of  1894,  President  Cleveland  issued  a  proclamation 
declaring  that  he  was  satisfied  that  the  members  of  the 
Mormon  Church  were  now  living  in  obedience  to  the  law, 
and  granting  a  full  amnesty  and  pardon  to  those  who  had 
been  convicted  of  polygamy  and  deprived  of  their  civil  rights  :  '-' 
Forum,  December  1SU4.  -  The  Times.  July  14,  Sept.  2'.),  1H'.)4. 


462  DEMOCRACY    AND   LIBERTY 

and  in  the  same  year  Congress  passed  a  measure  under  which 
Utah,  in  the  beginning  of  1896,  attained  its  long-sought 
object,  and  was  admitted  as  a  separate  State  in  the  American 
Union.  One  of  the  conditions  of  the  enabling  Act  is  that  the 
new  Constitution  prohibits  polygamy.  ' 

The  party  which  was  created  for  the  special  purpose  of 
opposing  Mormonism  was  formally  disbanded  at  the  close  of 
1893,  and  both  of  the  great  parties  in  the  State  are  now 
competing  for  the  Mormon  vote.  The  charge  which  has 
recently  been  brought,  with  most  effect,  against  the  Mormons 
has  not  been  their  polygamy,  but  their  susceptibility  to 
Church  interference  in  political  life.  At  the  same  time  the 
non-Mormon  politicians  have  shown  themselves  very  ready 
to  nominate  as  candidates  officials  of  the  Mormon  Church, 
believing  that  such  candidates  are  likely  to  secure  the  largest 
number  of  Mormon  votes.  A  gentleman  holding  the  high 
position  of  '  Apostle '  in  the  Church  was  put  forward  by 
the  Democratic  party  as  their  nominee  for  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States.1  So  complete  to  all  appearance  is  the 
reconciliation  between  the  American  Government  and  the 
Mormon  Church,  that  it  is  said  to  be  a  Mormon  tenet  that  the 
American  Constitution  is  an  inspired  document.2 

A  future  historian  must  tell  the  final  results  of  the  con- 
flict which  I  have  described  between  religious  fanaticism  and 
repressive  legislation,  but  it  is  surely  a  curious  sign  of  the 
times  that  the  theatre  of  the  struggle  should  have  been  the 
great  democracy  of  the  West.  When  democratic  opinion 
thoroughly  favours  repression,  that  repression  is  likely, 
in  the  conditions  of  modern  society,  to  be  stronger  and  more 
uncompromising  than  under  a  monarchy  or  an  aristocracy.  It 
is  difficult  to  observe  without  some  disquiet  the  manifestly 
increasing  tendency  of  democracies  to  consider  the  regulation 
of  life,  character,  habits,  and  tastes  within  the  province  of 
Governments.     On  the  whole,  however,  democracies,  at  least 

1  See  an   article  of   Mr.   Glen  Miller's  in  Forum,  December  1895.     The 
senators  elected,  however,  were  of  the  Kepublican  party.  t 

2  Report  of  the  Commissioners  on  the  Catises  of  Immigration  to  the  U.S.A. 
(House  of  Representatives,  1892),  pp.  185-86. 


THE   ANTI-SEMITE   MOVEMENT  463 

in  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  seem  to  me  favourable  to  religious 
liberty.  No  doctrines  have  more  manifestly  declined  during 
the  last  half-century  than  the  doctrines  of  salvation  by  belief, 
of  exclusive  salvation,  and  of  the  criminality  of  error,  which 
lay  at  the  root  of  the  great  persecutions  under  Christian  rule. 
No  forms  of  liberty  are  more  prized  by  English  democracies 
than  the  liberty  of  expression,  discussion,  and  association. 
The  prevailing  passion  for  equality  favours  the  rise  of  various 
sects,  and  a  great  indifference  to  religious  dogma  in  general 
prevails  among  the  working  class,  who  have  now  risen  to 
power. 

There  is,  however,  another  influence  connected  with,  and 
scarcely  less  strong  than,  democracy  which  has  an  opposite 
tendency,  and  it  is  probable  that  if  religious  persecution  ever 
again  plays  a  great  part  in  human  affairs,  it  will  be  closely 
connected  with  that  growing  sentiment  of  nationality  which 
I  have  examined  in  the  last  chapter.  No  attentive  observer 
can  have  failed  to  notice  how  frequently  it  displays  itself  in  a 
desire  to  unify  the  national  type,  and  to  expel  all  alien  and 
uncongenial  elements.  Keligion  more  than  any  other  single 
influence  perpetuates  within  a  nation  distinct  types  and  con- 
solidates distinct  interests.  Few  facts  in  t,he  nineteenth 
century  have  been  so  well  calculated  to  disenchant  the 
believers  in  perpetual  progress  with  their  creed  as  the  anti- 
Semite  movement,  which  in  a  few  years  has  swept  like  an 
angry  wave  over  the  greater  part  of  Europe.  It  was  scarcely 
heard  of  before  the  latter  years  of  the  seventies,  but  it  has 
already  become  a  great  power,  not  only  in  semi-civilised 
countries  like  Koumania  and  Bussia,  but  also  in  Austria  and 
in  Germany.  In  France,  which  had  been  prominent  for  its 
early  liberality  to  the  Jews,  the  immense  popularity  of  the 
works  of  Drumont  shows  that  the  anti-Semite  spirit  is  widely 
spread.  I  have  already  noticed  how  clearly  the  extravagant 
French  enthusiasm  for  Russia,  at  the  very  time  when  the 
Russian  Government  was  engaged  in  savage  persecution  of 
the  Jewish  race,  shows  that  a  question  of  national  interests 
and  national  revenge  could  supersede,  in  one  of  the  most  en- 
lightened   nations   in    Europe,  all    the   old    enthusiasm  for 


464  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

religious  liberty.  The  recent  movement  for  proscribing, 
under  pretence  of  preventing  cruelty  to  animals,  the  mode 
of  killing  animals  for  food,  which  is  enjoined  in  the  Jewish 
ritual,  is  certainly  at  least  as  much  due  to  dislike  to 
the  Jews  as  to  consideration  for  cattle.  It  appears  to 
have  arisen  among  the  German  anti-Semites,  especially  in 
Saxony,  and  in  1893  a  law  prohibiting  the  Jewish  mode  of 
slaughtering  cattle  was  carried  in  Switzerland  by  a  popular 
vote. 

In  these  countries  the  anti-Semite  movement  has  been 
essentially  a  popular  movement,  a  fierce  race-hatred,  per- 
vading great  masses  of  the  people,  and  for  the  most  part 
neither  instigated  nor  encouraged  by  their  Governments. 
Religious  fanaticism  has  mixed  with  it,  but  usually,  and 
especially  in  Germany,  it  has  played  only  a  very  minor  part. 
Many  causes  have  conspired  to  it.  The  enormous  power 
which  Jews  have  obtained  in  the  press  and  the  money  markets 
of  Europe  is  very  evident,  and  great  power  is  never  more 
resented  than  when  it  is  in  the  hands  of  men  who  suffer  from 
some  social  inferiority.  Jews,  in  some  countries,  are  specially 
prominent  in  unpopular  professions,  such  as  tax-gatherers 
and  small  money-lenders,  agents,  manipulators,  and  organisers 
of  industry.  They  have  little  turn  for  labouring  with  their 
hands,  but  they  have  a  special  skill  in  directing  and  appro- 
priating the  labour  of  others.  They  have  come  to  be  looked 
upon  as  typical  capitalists,  and  therefore  excite  the  hostility 
both  of  Socialists,  who  would  make  war  on  all  capitalists,  and 
of  the  very  different  class  which  views  with  jealousy  the 
increasing  power  of  money,  as  distinguished  from  land,  in  the 
government  of  the  world  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
have  themselves  contributed  largely  to  the  socialistic  and 
revolutionary  elements  in  Europe.  Among  their  many  great 
gifts,  they  have  never,  as  a  race,  possessed  the  charm  of 
manner  which  softens,  conciliates,  and  attracts,  and  the  dis- 
integration of  politics,  which  is  such  a  marked  feature  of  our 
time,  brings  every  separate  group  into  a  clearer  and  stronger 
relief.  It  is  as  a  distinct  and  alien  element  in  the  national 
life  that  they  have  been  especially  assailed. 


THE   RUSSIAN   PERSECUTION  465 

The  Eussian  persecution  stands  in  some  degree  apart 
from  the  other  forms  of  the  anti-Semite  movement,  both 
on  account  of  its  unparalleled  magnitude  and  ferocity,  and 
also  because  it  is  the  direct  act  of  a  Government  deliberately, 
systematically,  remorselessly  seeking  to  reduce  to  utter  misery 
about  four  and  a  half  millions  of  its  own  subjects.  The 
laws  of  General  Ignatieff  in  May  1882,  and  the  later  and 
still  more  atrocious  measures  that  were  taken  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  M.  Pobedonostseff,  form  a  code  of  persecution  which 
well  deserves  to  rank  with  those  that  followed  the  religious 
wars  of  the  sixteenth  century.1  The  Russian  legislator  does 
not,  it  is  true,  altogether  proscribe  the  Jewish  worship, 
though  no  synagogue  is  permitted  in  any  place  where  there 
are  less  than  eighty,  and  no  public  prayer  in  any  place  where 
there  are  less  than  thirty,  Jewish  houses.  Nor  does  he 
absolutely  and  by  a  formal  measure  expel  the  Jews  from 
Russian  soil.  Such  a  step  has,  indeed,  been  adopted  on  a 
large  scale  in  1891  and  1892,  in  the  case  of  the  poorer  Jews 
of  foreign  nationality.  It  is  estimated  that  these  number 
about  150,000,  and  many  of  them,  though  of  foreign  parent- 
age, had  been  born  in  Russia,  had  lived  there  all  their  lives, 
spoke  no  language  except  Russian,  depended  absolutely  on 
Russian  industries  for  their  livelihood,  and  desired  nothing 
more  than  the  naturalisation  which  was  refused  them.  The 
small  number  who  consented  to  abjure  their  faith  were 
suffered  to  remain.  Multitudes  of  the  others  were  expelled 
from  their  houses,  and  driven  like  cattle  by  bands  of  Cossacks 
across  the  frontier,  where  thousands  have  perished  by  misery 
and  cold.2 

For  the  native  Jews  a. different  treatment  was  provided. 
The  legislator  contented  himself  with  driving  the  great 
body  of  these  Jews,  including  several  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  persons,  out  of  an  immense  proportion  of  the  territory 

1  An  excellent  summary  of  these  laws  will  be  found  in  the  report  of  Messrs 
Weber  and  Kempster  to  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  U.S.A.:  Report 
of  Commissioners  of  Immigration  upon  the  Causes  which  incite  Immigration 
to  the  United  States  (1892),  pp.  149-65. 

2  See  Errera,  Lcs  Juifs  Itusses  (1893),  pp.  40-43.  Compare  the  remarks 
of  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  165. 

VOL.  I.  H  It 


466  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

and  out  of  the  great  cities,  in  which  they  had  long  lived 
unmolested  ;  confining  them,  in  the  territory  in  which  they 
were  allowed  to  dwell,  to  the  overcrowded  towns ;  banishing 
them  by  countless  restrictions,  disabilities,  and  disqualifica- 
tions from  all  honourable  and  lucrative  posts,  and  from  a 
multitude  of  the  trades  and  occupations  in  which  they  were 
accustomed  to  earn  their  livelihood,  and  thus  deliberately 
reducing  them  to  such  a  depth  of  misery  that  in  some  pro- 
vinces large  numbers  perished  by  literal  starvation.1 

The  Jews  are  at  the  same  time  subject  to  a  number  of 
taxes  which  do  not  fall  upon  the  Christians.  Their  offences 
are  punished  by  special  laws  and  harsher  penalties.  Their 
military  service  is  more  severe  than  that  of  Christians,  and 
they  are  excluded  from  all  the  higher  ranks  of  promotion. 
They  are  pronounced  aliens  by  the  law,  their  condition  is 
regulated  by  special  ordinances,  and  they  are  left  unprotected 
to  the  mercies  of  the  police. 

Bribes  as  well  as  penalties  are  employed  for  their  con- 
version. Every  adult  convert  is  rewarded  with  a  gift  §f 
from  fifteen  to  twenty  roubles  from  the  State,  and  every 
child  convert  with  half  that  sum.  If  one  partner  in  a  Jewish 
marriage  adopts  the  orthodox  faith,  that  partner  is  at  once 
freed  from  the  marriage  tie,  and  permitted  to  marry  a  Chris- 
tian. All  the  children  under  seven  of  the  sex  of  the  convert 
are  compulsorily  baptized.  If  the  couple  elect  to  live  to- 
gether, the  convert  must  sign  a  declaration  that  he  or  she  will 
endeavour  to  convert  the  other;  and  if  such  conversion  is 
not  effected,  both  are  prohibited  from  residing  outside  the' 
Jewish  pale.  Though  no  one,  according  to  Kussian  law,  can' 
perform  a  legal  act  under  the  age  of  twenty-one,  Jewish 
children  at  the  age  of  fourteen  may  be  received  into  the  , 
Orthodox  Church  without  the  permission  of  their  parents  or 
guardians. 

There  are,  it  is  true,  a  variety  of  exemptions,  some  of  them 
resting  upon  regular  decrees,  but  a  large  part  purely  arbi- 
trary and  precarious.  Wealthy  Jews  are  able,  after  a  certain 
number  of  years,  to  become  members  of  what  is  called  the 

1  Errera,  Les  Juifs  Busses,  pp.  103-9. 


THE   JEWISH   ARTISANS  467 

First  Guild,  and  are  permitted  by  the  payment  of  a  large 
sum  to  purchase  the  right  of  living  in  any  part  of  Eussia ; 
and  some  classes  are  exempted  from  portions  of  the  code  on 
account  of  their  university  degrees,  or  of  the  practice  of 
certain  learned  professions.  Their  number,  however,  has 
been  carefully  limited  by  a  crowd  of  recent  enactments  re- 
stricting to  very  small  proportions  the  Jews  who  are  admitted 
to  the  universities  and  the  professional  training  schools,  and 
in  many  other  ways  impeding  their  education. 

A  more  important  exception  is  that  of  skilled  artisans,  who, 
under  the  system  of  passports,  annually  renewed,  are  per- 
mitted to  reside  temporarily  outside  the  pale.  Their  position, 
however,  is  utterly  precarious.  The  passports  may  be  at  any 
time  withdrawn.  The  permitted  trades  have  never  been  au- 
thoritatively denned,  and  the  limits  of  exemption  have  been 
frequently  and  arbitrarily  contracted.1  By  a  recent  enactment 
the  artisans  are  only  allowed  in  a  small  proportion  of  towns, 
where  their  industry  can  be  under  constant  supervision.2  If 
through  age  or  infirmity  they  are  unable  to  work,  they  are 
at  once  banished  to  the  pale,  and  any  intermission  of  work 
makes  them  liable  to  the  same  expulsion.  It  has  been  a 
common  practice,  write  the  American  Commissioners,  '  to  visit 
the  workshops  in  which  these  artisans  were  employed  when 
they  were  out  delivering  work,  or  perhaps  on  a  holiday, 
and  because  they  were  not  found  actually  engaged  in  such 
artisan's  work  at  the  time  of  the  visit,  they  were  reported  as 
being  fraudulently  enrolled  in  the  Artisans'  Guild,  and  there- 
upon expelled  to  the  pale.' 3  In  many  cases  they  have  been 
expelled  simply  because  they  were  not  found  working  on 
their  own  Sabbath.4 

The  Jewish  artisan  outside  the  pale  may  bring  with  him 
his  wife  and  children,  but  he  must  receive  no  other  relatives, 
not  even  his  father  or  mother,  in  his  hut.  He  must  sell  nothing 
outside  the  pale,  except  what  he  has  himself  made,  and  under 
this  rule  tailors  have  been  expelled  because  the  buttons  on 
the  coats,  and  watchmakers  because  the  keys  of  the  watches 

1  ^Frederic,  The  New  Exodus,  pp.  166-68.  '  Errera,  p.  69. 

3  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  39.         *  Frederic,  The  New  Exodus,  p.  248. 

n  11  2 


468  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

they  sold  were  not  of  their  own  manufacture.1  Their  wives 
also  are  under  the  severest  restrictions.  In  1891,  ten  wives 
of  Jewish  artisans  were  expelled  from  Kieff  because  they  had 
been  found  guilty  of  selling  bread  and  milk.2  Among  the 
exempted  trades  is  that  of  midwife,  and  Jewish  midwives  are 
permitted  in  all  parts  of  the  Empire,  but  they  are  specially 
forbidden  to  keep  their  children  with  them  when  outside  the 
pale.3  A  characteristic  provision  permits  the  Jewish  prostitute 
to  ply  her  trade  in  any  part  of  the  Empire.  Leroy-Beaulieu 
mentions  a  well-authenticated  case  of  a  poor  Jewish  girl  who, 
in  order  to  purchase  permission  to  learn  shorthand  at  Moscow, 
actually  took  out  the  yellow  passport  of  a  prostitute,  but  was 
shortly  afterwards  expelled  by  the  police,  as  it  was  found 
that  she  was  not  practising  the  permitted  trade.4 

In  spite  of  the  shackles  that  are  imposed  on  the  Russian 
press,  and  the  misrepresentations  of  official,  writers,  the  facts 
of  this  persecution  have  been  largely,  though  no  doubt  very 
imperfectly,  disclosed.  The  Government  of  the  United  States 
rendered  a  great  service  to  history  by  sending  two  singularly 
competent  and  judicial  commissioners  to  study  on  the  spot 
the  nature  and  the  cause  of  a  persecution  which  drives  tens 
of  thousands  of  Jewish  emigrants  to  America.  Their  admi- 
rably full  and  temperate  report ;  the  excellent  work  in  which 
Professor  Errera  has  collected  and  sifted  the  best  evidence 
relating  to  the  persecution  ;  the  writings  of  M.  Leroy-Beau- 
lieu, who  is  a  capital  authority  both  on  Russian  and  on 
Jewish  questions,  and  a  few  well-informed  articles  which 
appeared  in  the  foreign  press,  have  brought  together  a  vast 
mass  of  well-authenticated  evidence,  and  Mr.  Harold  Frederic 
has  related  the  story  in  a  book  which  is  founded  on  close 
personal  investigation,  and  which  is  one  of  the  most  powerful 
and  most  terrible  of  our  time. 

1  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  39.  -  Errera,  p.  73. 

3  Ibid.  pp.  72-73. 

*  Errera,  p.  31.  Mr.  Frederic  mentions  '  two  perfectly  authenticated  cases 
of  young  Jewish  girls  of  respectable  families  and  unblemished  characters  who 
adopted  the  desperate  device  of  registering  themselves  as  prostitutes  in  order 
to  be  allowed  to  remain  with  their  aged  parents  in  the  city  where  they  were 
born '  (The  New  Exodus,  p.  216).  See,  too,  p.  247,  and  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  42. 


VIOLENCE   OF   THE   PERSECUTION  469 

To  these  writers  I  must  refer  the  reader  for  the  details  of 
a  persecution  which  far  exceeds  in  atrocity  any  other  that 
has  taken  place  in  Europe  in  the  nineteenth  century.  It 
cannot  be  measured  by  the  mere  letter  of  the  law,  though 
few  persons  who  have  examined  the  new  code  will  doubt 
that  it  was  deliberately  and  methodically  constructed  with 
the  object  of  driving  the  great  bulk  of  the  Jewish  population 
to  the  alternative  of  conversion,  starvation,  or  exile.  Still 
more  horrible  have  been  the  sanguinary  outbursts  of  popular 
fury,  often  connived  at,  if  not  instigated,  by  authority,  the 
brutal  acts  of  arbitrary  violence  by  which  the  persecution  at 
every  stage  has  been  continually  accompanied. 

If  the  reader  suspects  this  language  of  exaggeration,  he 
should  study  the  accounts  in  the  writers  I  have  cited  of  the 
police  raid  on  the  Jewish  quarter  of  Moscow,  which  began  the 
expulsion  of  the  Jews  from  that  city  in  1891  and  1892,  when 
more  than  700  men,  women,  and  children,  who  had  committed 
no  shadow  of  offence,  were  dragged  from  their  homes  in  the 
dead  hour  of  the  night,  and,  in  the  extreme  cold  of  a  Russian 
winter,  first  taken  to  the  prison,  and  then  marched  in  chains 
out  of  the  city  and  summarily  exiled  to  the  pale.1  He  should 
read  the  account  of  the  Jewish  settlement  of  Marina  Kostscha, 
which  was  surrounded  during  the  night  by  a  band  of  Cossacks 
with  torches  and  drawn  swords,  who  dragged  at  least  300 
unsuspecting  Jewish  families  from  their  beds,  and,  scarcely 
giving  them  time  to  dress,  drove  them  from  their  homes, 
through  the  woods  and  over  the  snow-covered  ground,  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  province.  Utter  ruin  naturally  accompanied 
the  persecution.  The  Jews  were  cut  off  from  their  only 
means  of  livelihood.  There  was  a  wholesale  repudiation  of 
debts;  and  this  was,  no  doubt,  a  leading  motive  in  the  tragedy. 
Those  who  possessed  realised  property  were  prevented  from 
removing  it,  and  forced  to  sell  it  at  the  shortest  notice 
to  a  hostile  population,  usually  for  a  minute  fraction  of  its 

1  The  official  paper  at  St.  Petersburg  denied  the  employment  of  chains,  but 
it  is  established  by  overwhelming  evidence.  See  Frederic,  pp.  •JH'l-'.l'i  ;  Weber 
and  Kempster,  pp.  47-61. 


470  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY 

real  value.1  Multitudes  of  the  fugitives  perished  on  the 
road  by  cold,  or  starvation,  or  fatigue.  Some,  in  the  agony 
of  their  distress,  found  a  refuge  in  suicide.  Sick  Jews  in 
the  extreme  of  suffering  were  repelled  from  the  Christian 
hospitals,2  and  tens  of  thousands,  in  the  utmost  destitution 
to  which  human  beings  can  sink,  have  been  driven  from 
their  country  to  seek  a  refuge  among  strangers.  According 
to  the  careful  estimate  of  Mr.  Frederic,  in  the  single  year 
which  ended  in  October,  1892,  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  million 
of  Russian  Jews  have  in  this  way  been  forced  into  exile.3 

Nowhere,  indeed,  in  modern  Europe  have  such  pictures 
of  human  suffering  and  human  cruelty  been  witnessed  as  in 
that  gloomy  Northern  Empire,  where  the  silence  of  an  iron 
despotism  is  seldom  broken  except  by  the  wailings  of  the 
famine-stricken,  the  plague-stricken,  and  the  persecuted. 

La,  sotto  giorni  brevi  e  nebulosi, 

Nasce  una  gente  a  cui  il  niorir  non  duole. 

Nearly  half  of  the  Jewish  race  is  said  to  have  dwelt 
there,  and  their  persecution  is  no  modern  thing,  though  in 
the  multitude  of  its  victims  the  persecution  under  Alexander 
III.  has  transcended  all  that  preceded  it.  The  causes 
which  produced  the  anti-Semite  movement  in  other  lands 
existed  in  Russia  in  peculiar  intensity,  as  there  was  no  other 
country  where  the  Jews  were  so  numerous,  and  scarcely 
any  where  the  Christians  were  at  once  so  ignorant  and  so 
poor.  The  charge  of  Nihilism  was  made  much  use  of, 
though  in  truth  but  very  few  Jews  have  been  proved 
guilty  of  conspiracy.4  An  evil  chance  had  placed  upon  the 
throne  an  absolute  ruler  who  combined  with  much  private 
virtue  and  very  limited  faculties  all  the  genuine  fanaticism 
of  the  great  persecutors  of  the  past,  and  who  found  a  new 
Torquemada  at  his  side.  He  reigned  over  an  administration 
which  is  among  the  most  despotic,  and  probably,  without 

1  Some  striking  instances  of  this  at  Moscow  are  given  in  The  New  Exodus, 
pp.  222-28.  2  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  41. 

3  The  New  Exodus,  pp.  283-84. 

4  Frederic  (pp.  118-19)  and  Errera  (pp.  144-45),  have  shown  the  very  small 
number  of  Jews  among  the  convicted  Nihilists.  Errera  examines  very  fully 
the  various  charges  brought  against  the  Bussian  Jews. 


CAUSES   OF  THE   PERSECUTION  471 

exception,  the  most  corrupt  and  the  most  cruel  in  Europe  ; 
over  a  people  with  many  amiable  and  noble  qualities,  but 
ignorant  and  credulous,  sunk  in  poverty  far  exceeding  that 
of  Western  Europe,  detached  by  a  great  economical  revo- 
lution from  their  old  grooves  and  guiding  influences,  and 
peculiarly  subject  to  fierce  gusts  of  fanatical  passion.  Among 
the  causes  of  the  great  Eussian  persecutions  of  Polish 
Catholics,  of  Lutherans,  of  Eussian  dissenters,  and,  above  all, 
of  Jews,  much  has  been  ascribed  by  the  best  observers  to  the 
mere  greed  of  corrupt  officials  seeking  for  blackmail  and  for 
confiscations.  Much  has  been  due  to  social  collisions  ;  to 
the  hatred  aroused  by  the  competition  of  a  more  industrious, 
more  intelligent,  and  more  sober  race  ;  to  the  hatred  which 
debtors  bear  to  their  creditors  ;  to  the  natural  tendency  of 
oppressed,  ignorant,  and  poverty-stricken  men  to  throw  the 
blame  of  their  very  real  sufferings  upon  some  isolated  and 
alien  race.  Eeligious  fanaticism  also,  which  has  a  deep 
hold  over  the  Eussian  nature,  and  which  has  shown  itself 
in  many  strange  explosions,  has  borne  a  considerable  part. 
But  probably  not  less  powerful  than  any  of  these  motives  has 
been  the  desire  to  make  Eussia  purely  Eussian,  expelling 
every  foreign  element  from  the  Slavonic  soil.  It  is  a  feeling 
which  has  long  smouldered  in  great  strata  of  Eussian  society, 
and  to  which  the  Panslavist  movement  of  our  own  day  has 
given  a  vastly  augmented  power  and  scope.  Some  of  the 
most  disgraceful  apologies  for  the  savage  persecutions  in 
Eussia  have  come  from  writers  who  profess  to  be  champions 
of  nationalities,  ardent  supporters  of  liberty  and  progress. 


END    OF    FIRST   VOLUME. 


Spottisicoode  A  Co.  Printer*,  New-ttrett  Kquarr,  London. 


H  Classtfieb   Catalogue 

OF  WORKS  IN 

GENERAL    LITERATURE 

PUBLISHED   BY 

LONGMANS,  GREEN,  &  CO. 

39    PATERNOSTER   ROW,    LONDON,    E.C. 

15  EAST  i6th  STREET,  NEW  YORK,  and  82  HORNBY  ROAD,  BOMBAY. 


INDEX 


Page 
Abbott  (Evelyn)  -  -  2,  13 
(T.  K.)  -        -        -        10 

(E.  A.)  10 

Acland  (A.  H.  D.)  -  2 
Acton  (Eliza)  -  -  21 
Acworth  (H.  A.)  -  -  14 
iEschylus  -  -  -  13 
Albemarle  (Earl  of)  8 
Allingham  (W.)  -  -  14,  22 
Anstey  (F.)  -  -  -  15 
Aristophanes  13 
Aristotle  -  -  -  10 
Armstrong  (E.)  -  -  2 
(G.  F.  Savage)     -        14 

(E.  J.)  -        -      5,  14,  22 

Arnold,  (E.  Lester)       -        15 

(Sir  Edwin)  -      6,  14,  20 

(Dr.  T.)         -        -  2 

Ashley  (W.  J.)  -  -  12 
Astor  (J.  J.)  -  -  -  15 
Atelier  duLys  (Author  of)  20 
Babington  (W.  D.)  -  13 
Bacon  -  -  -  -  5,  10 
Bagehot  (W.)  -  5,  12,  22 
Bagwell  (R.)  -        -  2 

Bain  (Alexander)-  -  10 
Baker  (James)      -        -        15 

(Sir  S.  W.)    -        -      6,  8 

Balfour  (A.  J.)  -  -  8,  24 
Ball  (J.  T.)   -        -        -  2 

Baring-Gould  (Rev.  S.)  22 
Barnett  (Rev.  S.  A.  &  Mrs.)  12 
Battye  (Aubyn  Trevor)  22 
Baynes  (T.  S.)  -  -  22 
Beaconsfield  (Earl  of)  -  15 
Beaufort  (Duke  of)       -  8 

Becker  (Prof.)  -  -  13 
Beesly  (A.  H.)  -  -  14 
Bell  (Mrs.  Hugh)-  -  14 
Bent  (J.  Theodore)      -  6 

Besant  (Walter)  -        -  2 

Bickerdyke  (J.)     -        -  9 

Bicknell  (A.  C.)    -        -  6 

Blackwell  (Elizabeth)  -  5 

Boase  (C.  W.)      -        -  3 

Boedder  (B.)  -  -  11 
Boulton  (Helen  M.)  -  15 
Boyd  (A.  K.  H.)  -  5,  22,  24 
Brassey  (Lady)     -        -  6 

(Lord)   -        -    2,  7,  8,  12 

Bray  (C.  and  Mrs.)  -  10 
Bright  (J.  F.)        -        -  2 

Broadfoot  (W.)    -        -  8 

Buckle  (H".  T.)      -  2 

Bull  (T.)  ...  2i 
Burke  (U.  R.)       -        -  2 

Burrows  (Montagu)     -  3 

Butler  (E.  A.)       -        -        17 

(Samuel)  22 

Camrbell-Walker  (A.)-  9 

Carmichael  (J.)  15 

Chesney  (Sir  G.)  -  2 

Chisholm  (G.  G.)  -  19 
CholmondeIey-Pennell(H.)  8 

'3 


OF 

Page 

3 

-  io,  12 
24 

-  15.  20 


AUTHORS. 


Cicero 

Clarke  (R.  F.) 
Clegg  (J.  T.)         -        - 
Clodd  (Edward)    - 
Clutterbuck  (VV.  J.)      - 
Cochrane  (A.) 
Comyn  (L.  N.)      - 
Conington  (John) 
Conybeare  (VV.  J.)  and 
Howson  (Dean)     - 
Cox  (Harding) 
Crake  (A.  D.) 
Creiehton  (Bishop) 
Curzbn  (Hon.  G.  N.)  - 


19 
2.3 


Cutts  (E.  L.) 
Davidson  (W.  L.) 
De  la  Saussaye  (C.) 
Deland  (Mrs.) 
Dent  (C.  T.) 

De  Salis  (Mrs.)     -  -  21 

De  Tocqueville  (A.)  -  3 

Devas  (C.  S.)        -  -  11,  12 

Dickinson  (G.  L.)  -  3 

Dougall(L.)-        -  -  15 

Dowell  (S.)   -        -  -  12 

Doyle  (A.  Conan)  -  16 

Ellis  (J.  H.)  -  9 

Ewald  (H.)   -        -  -  3 

Falkener  (E.)         -  -  9 

Farnell  (G.  S.)      -  -  13 

Farrar  (Dean)       -  -  12,  16 

Fitzpatrick  (W.  J.)  -  3 

Fitzwygram  (Sir  F.)  -  7 

Ford  (H.)  9 

Fowler  (Edith  H.)  -  16 

Francis  (Francis)  -  9 

Freeman  (Edward  A.)  -  3 
Froude  (James  A.)    3,  5,  7,  16 

Furneaux  (W.)     -  -  17 

Gardiner  (Samuel  R.)  -  3 

Gerard  (D.  )          -  -  16 

Gibson  (Hon.  H.)  -  9 

Gilkes  (A.  H.)       -  -  16 

Gleig  (G.  R.)         -  -  6 

Goethe  -        -        -  -  14 

Graham  (P.  A.)    -  -  17 

(G.  F.)  -        -  -  12 

Grant  (Sir  A.)       -  -  10 

Graves  (R.  P.)      -  5 

Green  (T.  Hill)     -  -  10 

Greville  (C.  C.  F.)  -  3 

Grey  (Mrs.  W.)    -  -  20 

Grove  (F.  C.)        -  -  8 

(Mrs.  Lilly)  -  -  8 

Gwilt  (J.)      -        -  -  22 1 

Haggard  (H.  Rider)  -  16 

Halliwell-Phillipps  (J.)  6 

Harte  (Bret)         -  -  16 

Hartwig  (G.)         -  -  17,  18 

Hassall  (A.)  .        -  -  5 

Hawker  (Col.  Peter)  -  9 

Hayward  (J.  M.)  -  -  18, 

Hearn(W.  E.)     -  -  3 

Heathcote(J.M.&C.G.)  8 

Helmholtz  (Hermann  von)  18 

Herbert  (W.  V.)  -  -  3 

Hillier  (G.  Lacy)-  -  8 

Hodgson  (Shadworth  H.)  10 

Hornung  (E.  W.)  -  16 

Howitt  (W.)         -  -  7 

Hudson  (W.  H.)-  -  18 

Hume  (David)      -  -  10 

Hunt  (W.)     -        -  -  3 

Hutchinson  (Horace  G.)  8 

Ingelow  (Jean)      -  -  14,  20 

James  (C.  A.)        -  -  22 

efferies  (Richard)  -21,23 

Johnson  (J.  &  J.  H.)  -  23 

Joyce  (P.  W.)       -  3 

Justinian       -        -  -  10 

Kalisch  (M.  M.)   -  -  24 

Kant  (I.)        ...  10 

Kendall  (May)      -  -  14 

Killick  (A.  H.)      -  -  10 

Kitchin  (G.  W.)   -  -  3 

Knight  (E.  F.)      -  -  7 

Kostlin  (J.)   -        -  -  5 

Ladd(G.  T.)         -  -  11 
Lang  (Andrew) 

3,  8,  9,  10,  13,  14,  16,  19,  23 

Lascelles  (Hon.  G.)  -  8, 9 

Laurie  (S.  S.)       -  -  23 

Lear  (H.  L.  Sidney)  -  22 


Page 


3.  14 

7,21 

16 

23 


8,9 


Lecky  (W.  E.  H.) 
Lees  (J.  A.)  - 
Lemon  (Ida) 
Leonard  (A.  G.)    - 
Lewes  (G.  H.) 
Lodge  (H,  C.)       - 
Loftie  (VV.  J.)       - 
Longman  (C.  J.)  - 

(F.  VV.) 

(G.  H.)-        -        - 

Lubbock  (Sir  John) 
Lyall  (Edna) 
Lyttelton  (Hon.  R.  H.) 
Lytton  (Earl  of)  - 
Macaulay  (Lord)  -      4, 
Macdonald  (George)    - 
Macfarren  (Sir  G.  A.)  - 
Mackail  (J.  VV.)    - 
Macleod  (H.  D.)  - 
Macpherson  (H.  A.) 
Maher  (M.)  - 
Marbot  (Baron  de) 
Marshman  (J.  C.) 
Martineau  (James) 
Maskelyne  Q.  N.) 
Matthews  (B.) 
Maunder  (S.) 

Max  Miiller  (F.)  n,  12,  23,  24 
Mav  (Sir  T.  Erskine)  -  4 
Meade  (L.  T.)  -  -  19 
Melville  (G.  J.  Whyte)        16 


3 
3 

23 

9 

8 

13 

16 

8 

14 

14,21 

24 

23 

13 

-  12,  21 

9 
11 

6 

5 
24 

9 
16 
19 


Page 
9 
3 
-  21,  23 
9 
9 

4-i 


Merivale  (Dean) 
Mill  (James) 

(John  Stuart) 

Milner  (G.)   - 
Molesworth  (Mrs.) 
Montague  (F.  C.) 
Moore  (J.  VV.)      - 
Munk(W.)   - 
Murdoch  (VV.  G.  Burn) 
Murray  (R.  F.)      - 
Nansen  (F.)  - 
Nesbit  (E.)    - 
O'Brien  (VV.) 
Oliphant  (Mrs.)    - 
Onslow  (Earl  of)  - 
Osbourne  (L) 
Palmer  (A.  H.)     - 
Parr  (Mrs.  Louisa) 
Payn  (James) 
Payne-Gallwey  (Sir  R.) 
Peary  (Mrs.  losephine) 
Peek(H.) 
Phillips  (M 


-  11,  12 
23 

-  19.  20 
4 
4 
5 
7 


Ronalds  (A.) 

Roosevelt  (T.) 

Rossetti  (M.  F.) 

Saintsbury  (G.) 

Scott-Montagu  (Hon.  J.) 

Seebohm  (F.) 

Selous  (F.  C.) 

Sewell  (Eliz.  M.)  - 

Shakespeare 

Shand  (A.  I.) 

Sharpe  (R.  R.)      - 

Shearman  (M.) 

Sheppard  (Edgar) 

Sinclair  (A.) - 

Smith  (R.  Bosworth)   - 

(VV.  P.  Haskett)  - 

Solovyoff  (V.  S.)  - 
Sophocles     - 
Soulsby  (Lucy  H.) 
Stanley  (Bishop)  - 
Steel  (A.  G.) 

(J.H.)  -        -        - 

Stephen  (Sir  James)    - 

(Leslie) 

Stephens  (H.  Morse)   - 

(VV.  VV.) 

Stevens  (R.  VV.)  - 
Stevenson  (R.  L.)        -  17,  19 
Stock  (St.  George)       -        11 
'  Stonehenge '  7 

Stuart-Wortley  (A.  J.)  9 

Stubbs  (J.  VV.)      -        -  5 

Sturgis(J.)  15 

Suffolk  &  Berkshire  (Earl  of)  8 
Sullivan  (Sir  E.)  -  8 

Sully  (James)  -  -  IX 
Sutherland  (A.  and  G.)  5 

Suttner  (B.  von)  -  -  17 
Swinburne  (A.  J.)  -  11 
Symes  (J.  E.)        -        -        13 

5  1  Tavlor  (Meadows)        -  5 
7    Thorn  (J.  H.)        -        -        24 

15  I  Thomson  (Archbishop)        11 
4    Todd  (A.)      -        -        •  5 

16  Toynbee(A.)         -        -        ia 
8lTrevelyan  (Sir  G.  O.)  - 

17  I  Trollope  (Anthony) 

6  TvrrelltK.  Y.) 
20    I'pton  (F.  K.  and  Bertha) 
iG    Van  Dyke  (J.  C.) - 
,9    Verney  (Frances  P.  and 

7  Margaret  M.)  - 
■  5  Virgil  -  -  - 
24    VVakeman  (H.  O.) 


■7 
■5 
9 

4 
8 
4 
S 

4 
7 
^3 
IJ 
M 
18 
8 
7 
6 

7 
5 

6 
23 


5,6 
«7 
«3 
'9 
23 


Phillipps-Wolley  (C.)  -    8.  16   Walford  (Mrs.) 


Piatt  (S.  &  J.  J.) 
Pole  (VV.)      - 
Pollock  (VV.  H.)   - 
Poole  (VV.  H.  and  Mrs.) 
Poore  (G.  V  ) 
Pritchett  (R.  T.)  - 
Prince  (Helen  C.) 
Proctor  (R.  A.)     -      9, 
Ouillinan  (Mrs.)   - 
Quintana  (A.) 
Raine  (James) 
Ransome  (Cyril)  - 
Rhoades  (J.) 
Rhoscomyl  (O.)    - 
Rich  (A.) 

Richardson  (Sir  B.  W.) 
Richman  (I.  B.)   - 
Rickaby  (John)     - 

(Joseph) 

Ridley  (Annie  E.) 

Riley  (J.  VV.) 

Robertson  (A.) 

Roget  (Peter  M.)  - 

Romanes  (G.  J.)  -     II.  13.24! 


6 

13 

5 

6,  17 

11 


15  Walker  (Jane  H.) 
9  Walpole  (Spencer) 
8  VValsingham  (Lord)     -  8 

22  Walter  (J.)  6 

2(  Watson  (A.  E.  T.)        -      8.9 

8  \Vi!>b(Mr.and  Mrs.  Sidney)  ia 

if.  Weir(R.)      ...  8 

18,  23  West  (B.  B.)        -       -  17.  23 

7  Wevman  (Stanley)       -  17 

16  What.lv  (Archbishop)-  II 

3  (E.  Jane)       -        -  12 

2  Whishaw  (F.J.)   -        -  7 

13,  15.  Wilcock»(J.C.)  -        -  9 

16  Wilkins  (G.)-  -  -  13 
13  Willich  (C.  M.)  -  -  19 
2i  Wolff  (H.  W.)      -       -  5 

4  Wood  (J.  G.)  -  -  18 
11  WoodgatefW.  B.)  -  8 
11  Wood-Martin  (W.  G.)  5 

5  Wordsworth  (Elizabeth)  19 
15  Wylie(JH)        -        -  5 

17  Youatt  (W.)  -        -        -  7 
ia,  19  Zeller  (E.)    -  " 


CONTENTS. 


Badminton  Library  (The)     ...  8 

Biography,  Personal  Memoirs,  &c.      -  5 

Children's  Books-  -  -  -  -  19 
Classical  Literature,   Translation, 

&c 13 

Cookery,  Domestic  Management,  &c.  -  21 

Evolution,  Anthropology,  &c.    -         -  13 

Fiction,  Humour,  &c.   -        -        -        -  15 

Fur  and  Feather  Series  9 
History,   Politics,  Polity,  Political 

Memoirs,  &c. 2 

Index  of  Authors          -        -        -        -  i 

Language,  History  and  Science  of     -  12 


Mental,  Moral,  and  Political  Philo- 
sophy ------ 

Miscellaneous  and  Critical  Works  - 

Miscellaneous  Theological  Works  - 

Poetry  and  the  Drama 

Political  Economy  and  Economics 

Popular  Science  .... 

Silver  Library  (The)   - 

Siort  and  Pastime        - 

Travel  and  Adventure,  the  Colonies, 
&c. 

Veterinary  Medicine,  &c.    - 

Works  of  Reference    -         -         -         - 


22 

24 

12 

17 

20 


6 

7 

10 


History,  Polities,  Polity,  Political  Memoirs,  &e. 


Abbott. — A    History    of    Greece. 
By  Evelyn  Abbott,  M.A.,  LL.D. 
Part  I. — From   the   Earliest  Times  to  the 
Ionian  Revolt.     Crown  8vo.,  10s.  6d. 
Part  II. — 500-445  b.c.     Crown  8vo.,  10s.  6d. 

Acland  and  Ransome. — A  Hand- 
book in  Outline  of  the  Political  His- 
tory of  England  to  1894.  Chronologically 
Arranged.  By  A.  H.  Dyke  Acland,  M.P., 
and  Cyril  Ransome,  M.A.    Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

ANNUAL  REGISTER  {THE).     A 

Review    of  Public    Events    at   Home    and 

Abroad,  for  the  year  1894.     8vo.,  185. 

Volumes  of  the  Annual  Register  for  the 

years  1863-1893  can  still  be  had.    185.  each. 

Armstrong.—  Elizabeth  Farnese; 

The  Termagant  of  Spain.    By  Edward  Arm- 
strong, M.A.     8vo.,  16s. 

Arnold  (Thomas,  D.D.),  formerly 
Head  Master  of  Rugby  School. 

Introductory  Lectures  on  Mod- 
ern History.    8vo.,  7s.  6d. 
Miscellaneous  Works.  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Bagwell. — Ireland  under  the 
Tudors.  By  Richard  Bagwell,  LL.D. 
(3  vols.)  Vols.  I.  and  II.  From  the  first 
invasion  of  the  Northmen  to  the  year  1578. 
8vo.,  32s.     Vol.  III.  1578-1603.     8vo.  185. 

Ball. — Historical  Review  of  the 
Legislative  Systems  operative  in  /re- 
land,  from  the  Invasion  of  Henry  the  Second 
to  the  Union  (1 172-1800).  By  the  Rt.  Hon. 
J.  T.  Ball.     8vo.,  6s. 

Besant. — The  History  of  London. 

By  Walter  Besant.  With  74  Illustrations. 
Crown  8vo.,  is.  gd  Or  bound  as  a  School 
Prize  Book,  2s.  6d. 

Brassey  (Lord). — Papers   and   Ad- 
dresses. 

Naval  and  Maritime.    1872-1893. 
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System  of  Logic.  By  Rev.  A.  H. 
Killick,  M.A.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.   6d. 


MESSRS.   LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


Mental,  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy— continued. 


Ladd  (George  Trumbull). 

Philosophy  of  Mind  :  An  Essay  on 
the  Metaphysics  of  Psychology.  8vo.,  165. 

Elements  of  Physiological  Psy- 
chology.   8vo.,  215. 

Outlines  of  Physiological  Psy- 
chology. A  Text-book  of  Mental  Science 
for  Academies  and  Colleges.     8vo.,  12s. 

Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Ex- 
planatory :  a  Treatise  of  the  Phenomena, 
Laws,  and  Development  of  Human  Mental 
Life.     8vo.,  21s. 

Primer  of  Psychology.     Cr.  8vo., 

5s.   6d. 

Lewes.  —  The  History  of  Philoso- 
phy, from  Thales  to  Comte.  By  George 
Henry  Lewes.     2  vols.     8vo.,  325. 

Max  Miiller  (F.). 
The  Science  of  Thought.  8vo.,  2 15. 
Three  Introductory  Lectures  on 
the  Science  of  Thought.     8vo.,  25.  6d. 

Mill. — Analysis  of  the  Phenomena 
of  the  Human  Mind.  By  James  Mill. 
2  vols.     8vo.,  28s. 

Mill  (John  Stuart). 
A  System  of  Logic.   Cr.  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 
On  Liberty.     Crown  8vo.,  15.  \d. 
On  Representative  Government. 

Crown  Svo..  is. 
Utilitarianism.     8vo.,  25.  6d. 
Examination    of    Sir      William 

Hamilton's  Philosophy.    8vo.,  16s. 
Nature,  the  Utility  of  Religion, 

axd  Theism.     Three  Essays.     Svo.,  5s. 

Romanes. — Mind  and  Motion  and 
Monism.  By  the  late  George  John 
Romanes,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.      Cr.  8vo.,  45.  6d. 

Stock. — -Deductive  Logic.  By  St. 
George  Stock.     Fcp.  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 


Sully  (James). 

The  Human  Mind  :  a  Text-book  of 
Psychology.     2  vols.     8vo.,  215. 

Outlines  of  Psychology.    8vo.,  9s. 

The  Teacher's  Handbook  6f  Psy- 
chology.   Crown  8vo.,  5s. 

Studies  of  Childhood.     8vo, 

125.  6d. 

Swinburne.  —  Picture  Logic  :  an 
Attempt  to  Popularise  the  Science  of 
Reasoning.  By  Alfred  James  Swinburne, 
M.A.    With  23  Woodcuts.     Crown  8vo.,  5s. 

T  h  0  m  S  0  n. — Outlines  of  the 
Necessary  Laws  of  Thought:  a  Treatise 
on  Pure  and  Applied  Logic.  By  William 
Thomson,  D.D.,  formerly  Lord  Archbishop 
of  York.     Crown  Svo.,  6s. 

Whately  (Archbishop). 

Bacon's  Essays.  With  Annotations. 
8vo.,  iox.  6d. 

Elements  of  Logic.  Cr.  8vo.,  45, 6d. 

Elements  of  Rhetoric.  Cr.  8vo., 
45.  6d. 

Lessons  on  Reasoning.  Fcp.  8vo., 
15.  6d. 

Zeller  (Dr.  Edward,  Professor  in  the 

University  of  Berlin). 

The  Stoics,  Epicureans,  and 
Sceptics.  Translated  by  the  Rev.  0.  J. 
Reichel,  M.A.     Crown  8vo.,  155. 

Outlines  of  the  History  of 
Greer  Philosophy.  Translated  by 
Sarah  F.  Alleyne  and  Evelyn- 
Abbott.     Crown  Svo.,   10s.  6d. 

Plato  and  the  Older  Academy. 
Translated  by  Sarah  F.  Alleyne  and 
Alfred  Goodwin,  B.A.  Crown  Svo. 
185. 

Socrates  and  the  Soc  ratio 
Schools.  Translated  by  the  Rev.  O. 
J.  Reichel,  M.A.     Crown  8vo.,  105.  bd 


MANUALS  OF  CATHOLIC  PHILOSOPHY. 

(Stonyhurst  Scries). 


A  Manual  of  Political  Economy. 
By  C.  S.  Devas,  M.A.     Crown  8vo.,  65.  6d. 

First   Principles    of    Knowledge. 
By  John  Rickaby,  S.J.     Crown  8vo.,  55. 

General   Metaphysics.       By  John 
Rickaby,    S.J.     Crown    Svo.,    55. 

LOgic.     By  Richard  F.  Clarke,  S.J. 
Crown  Svo.,  55. 


Moral  Philosophy  (Ethics  and 
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Crown     8vo.,  55. 

Natural  Theology.  By  Bernard 
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Psychology.      By  Michael  Maher, 

S.J.     Crown  Svo.,  6s.  6d. 


12         MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


History  and  Science  of  Language,  &e. 

Max  Miiller  (F.) — continued. 


Davidson. — Leading  and  Import- 
ant English  Words  :  Explained  and  Ex- 
exmplified.  By  William  L.  Davidson, 
M.A.  Fcp.  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Farrar.  — La  ng  ua  ge  a  nd  La  ng  ua  ges  : 
By  F.  W.  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S.  Crown 
8vo.,  6s. 

Graham.  —  English    Synonyms, 

Classified    and    Explained :    with    Practical 
Exercises.   By  G.  F.  Graham.    Fcp.  8vo.,6s. 

Max  Muller  (F.). 

The  Science  of  Language. — Found- 
ed on  Lectures  delivered  at  the  Royal  In- 
stitution in  1861  and  1863.  2  vols.  Crown 
8vo.,  215. 


Three  Lectures  on  the  Science 
of  Language,  and  its  Place  in 
General  Education;  delivered  at  Ox- 
ford, 1889.     Crown  8vo.,  3s. 

R  O  g  e  t.  —  Thesa  ur  us  of  English 
Words  and  Phrases.  Classified  and 
Arranged  so  as  to  Facilitate  the  Expression 
of  Ideas  and  assist  in  Literary  Composition. 
By  Peter  Mark  Roget,  M.D.,  F.R.S. 
Recomposed  throughout,  enlarged  and  im- 
proved, partly  from  the  Author's  Notes,  and 
with  a  full  Index,  by  the  Author's  Son, 
John  Lewis  Roget.     Crown  8vo.  10s.  6d. 


Biographies  of  Words,  and  the    Whately. — English  Synonyms.    By 
Home  of  the  Aryas.  Crown  8vo.,  7s.  6d.  \      E.Jane  Whately.     Fcp.  8vo.,  3s. 


Political  Economy  and  Economies. 


Ashley. — English  Economic  His- 
tory and  Theory.  By  W.  J.  Ashley, 
M.A.  Crown  8vo.,  Part  I.,  5s.  Part  II. 
10s.  6d. 

Bagehot. — Economic  Studies.  By 
Walter  Bagehot.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Barnett. — Practicable    Socialism. 

Essays  on  Social  Reform.     By  the  Rev.  S. 
A.  and  Mrs.  Barnett.     Crown  8vo.,  65. 

Brassey. — Papers  and  Addresses 
on  Work  and  Wages.  By  Lord  Brassey. 
Edited  by  J.  Potter,  and  with  Introduction 
by  George  Howell,  M.P.    Crown  8vo.,  5s. 

Devas. — A  Manual  of  Political 
Economy.  By  C.  S.  Devas,  M.A.  Cr.  8vo., 
6s.  6d.     (Manuals  of  Catholic  Philosophy.) 

Dowell. — A  History  of  Taxation 
and  Taxes  in  England,  from  the  Earliest 
Times  to  the  Year  1885.  By  Stephen 
Dowell,  (4  vols.  8vo.)  Vols.  I.  and  II. 
The  History  of  Taxation,  215.  Vols.  III. 
and  IV.  The  History  of  Taxes,  21s. 

Macleod  (Henry  Dunning). 
Bimetalism.     8vo.,  5s.  net. 


The  Elements  of  Banking. 
8vo. ,  3s.  6d. 


Cr. 


(Henry    Dunning) — con- 


The    Theory    and    Practice    of 
Banking.  Vol.  I.  8vo.,  12s.  Vol.  II.  14s. 


Macleod 

tinued. 

The  Theory  of  Credit.  8vo. 
Vol.  I.,  ios.  net.  Vol.  II.,  Part  I.,  105.  net. 
Vol.  II.,  Part  II.,  ios.  6d. 

A  Digest  of  the  Law  of  Bills 
of  Exchange,  Bank-notes,  &c. 

[In  the  press. 

Mil  1. — Political  Economy.  By 
John  Stuart  Mill. 

Popular  Edition.     Crown  8vo.,  35.  6d. 
Library  Edition.     2  vols.     8vo. ,  305. 

Symes. — Political  Economy:  a 
Short  Text-book  of  Political  Economy. 
With  Problems  for  Solution,  and  Hints  for 
Supplementary  Reading.  By  Professor 
J.  E.  Symes,  M.A.,  of  University  College, 
Nottingham.     Crown  8vo.,  25.  6d. 

Toynbee. — Lectures  on  the  In- 
dustrial Revolution  of  the  18th  Cen- 
tury in  England:  Popular  Addresses, 
Notes  and  other  Fragments.  By  Arnold 
Toynbee.  With  a  Memoir  of  the  Author 
by  Benjamin  Jowett,  D.D.     8vo.,  ios.  6d. 

Webb. — The  History  of  Trade 
Unionism.  By  Sidney  and  Beatrice 
Webb.  With  Map  and  full  Bibliography  of 
the  Subject.     8vo.,  18s. 


MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


»'3 


Evolution,   Anthropology,  &e. 


Babington. — Fallacies  of  Race 
Theories  as  Applied  to  National 
Characteristics.  Essays  by  William 
Dalton  Babington,  M.A.   Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

Clodd  (Edward). 

The  Story  of  Creation:  a  Plain 
Account  of  Evolution.  With  77  Illustra- 
tions.    Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

A  Primer  of  Evolution :  being  a 
Popular  Abridged  Edition  of  '  The  Story 
of  Creation '.  With  Illustrations.  Fcp. 
8vo.,  is.  6d. 

Lang. — Custom  and  Myth  :  Studies 
of  Early  Usage  and  Belief.  By  Andrew 
Lang.  With  15  Illustrations.  Crown  8vo., 
3s.  6d. 


Lubbock. — The  Origin  of  Civilisa  - 
TION,  and  the  Primitive  Condition  of  Man. 
By  Sir  J.  Lubbock,  Bart.,  M.P.  With  5 
Plates  and  20  Illustrations  in  the  Text. 
8vo.,  18s. 

Romanes   (George    John,    LL.D., 
F.R.S.). 
Darwin,  and  after  Darwin:  an 
1  Exposition  of  the  Darwinian  Theory,  and  a 
Discussion  on  Post- Darwinian  Questions. 
Part  I.  The  Darwinian  Theory.     With 
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Crown  8vo.,  10s.  6d. 
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An  Examination  of    Weismann- 
ism.     Crown  8vo.,  6s. 


Classical  Literature,  Translations,  &e. 


Abbott. — Hellenica.  A  Collection 
of  Essays  on  Greek  Poetry,  Philosophy, 
History,  and  Religion.  Edited  by  Evelyn 
Abbott,  M.A.,  LL.D.     8vo.,  16s. 

iEschylus. — Eumenides  of  Aeschy- 
lus. With  Metrical  English  Translation. 
By  J.  F.  Davies.     8vo.,  7s. 

Aristophanes.  —  The  Acharnians 
of  Aristophanes,  translated  into  English 
Verse.    By  R.  Y.  Tyrrell.    Crown  8vo.,  is. 

Becker  (Professor). 

Gallus  :  or,  Roman  Scenes  in  the 
Time  of  Augustus.  Illustrated.  Post 
8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Charicles:  or,  Illustrations  of  the 
Private  Life  of  the  Ancient  Greeks. 
Illustrated.     Post  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Cicero. — Cicero's  Correspondence. 
By  R.  Y.  Tyrrell.  Vols.  I.,  II.,  III.,  8vo., 
each  12s.     Vol.  IV.,  15s. 

Farnell. — Greek  Lyric  Poetry: 
a  Complete  Collection  of  the  Surviving 
Passages  from  the  Greek  Song- Writing. 
Arranged  with  Prefatory  Articles,  Intro- 
ductory Matter  and  Commentary.  By 
George  S.  Farnell,  M.A.  With  5  Plates. 
8vo.,  16s. 

Lang. — Homer  and  the  Epic.  By 
Andrew  Lang.     Crown  8vo.,  gs.  net. 


Mackail. — Select  Epigrams  from 
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kail,  Fellow  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford. 
Edited  with  a  Revised  Text,  Introduction, 
Translation,  and  Notes.     8vo.,  16s. 

Rich. — A  Die tion a ry  of  Roma n  and 
Greek  Antiquities.  By  A.  Rich,  B.A. 
With  2000  Woodcuts.     Crown  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Sophocles. — Translated  into  English 
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Assistant  Master  in  Rugby  School ;  late 
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Crown  8vo.,  8s.  6d. 

Tyrrell. — Trans  la  tionsinto  Greek 
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Virgil. 

The  ALneid  of  Virgil.  Translated 
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Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

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The  sEneid  of  Virgil.  Books  I. 
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by  James  Rhoades.     Crown  8vo.,  5s. 

Wilkins. —  The  Growth  of  the 
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14 


MESSRS.   LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


Poetry  and  the  Drama. 


Acworth. — Ballads  of  the  Mara- 
thas.  Rendered  into  English  Verse  from 
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not  Acworth.     8vo.,  5s. 

Allingham  (William). 

Irish  Songs  and  Poems.  With 
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La  urence  Bloomfield.  With  Por- 
trait of  the  Author.     Fcp.  8vo.,  3s.  6<f. 

Slower  Pieces ;  Day  and  Night 
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paper  edition,  12s. 

Life  and  Phantasy  :  with  Frontis- 
piece by  Sir  J.  E.  Millais,  Bart.,  and 
Design  by  Arthur  Hughes.  Fcp.  8vo., 
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Thought  and  Word,  and  Ashby 
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Blackberries.    Imperial  i6mo.,  65. 

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Armstrong-  (G.  F.  Savage). 
Poems  :  Lyrical  and  Dramatic.  Fcp. 

8vo.,  6s. 
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Ugone  :  a  Tragedy.     Fcp.  8vo.,  65. 
A  Garland  from  Greece  :  Poems. 

Fcp.  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 
Stories  of  Wicklow:  Poems.  Fcp. 

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a  Satire.     Fcp.  8vo.,  4s. 
One  in  the  Infinite:    a    Poem. 

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Armstrong. — The  Poetical  Works 
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The  Light  of  the  World  :  or  the 

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Potiphar's  Wife,  and  other  Poems. 

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Cochrane. — The  Kestrell  s  Nest, 

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Goethe. 

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Faust.  Translated,  with  Notes. 
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Ingelow  (Jean). 
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8vo.,  I2S. 

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Kendall. — Songs  from  Dreamland. 
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Macaulay. — La  ys  of  Ancient  Rome, 
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15 


Poetry  and   the  Drama — continued. 


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'  The  Scarlet  Gown  '.  His  Poems,  with 
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Poems  :  With  Portrait  of  the  ! 
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Shakespeare.  — Bo wdler's  Famil y 

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Sturgis. — A  Book  ok  Soxg.  By 
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Works  of  Fiction,   Humour,   &e. 


Anstey  (F.,  Author  of  'Vice  Versa'). 

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Voces  Populi.  Reprinted  from 
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Arnold. —  The  Story  of  Uli.a,  and  j 
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Astor. — A     Journey      in      other 
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Baker.—  By  the  Western  Sea.  By 
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Vivian  Grey.  I  Henrietta  Temple. 

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Contarini  Fleming,&c.  |  Lothair.      Endymion. 
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Carmichael. — Poems.  By  Jennings 
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teenth Century.  By  John  Trafkord 
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D eland. — Philip  and  His  Wife. 
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Dougall  (L.). 
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16        MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


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The  Captain  of  the  Polestar, 
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Froude. — The  Two  Chiefs  of  Dun- 
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Gerard. — An  Arranged  Marriage. 
By  Dorothea  Gerard.     Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

Gilkes.— The  Thing  That  Hath 
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Quintana. — The  Cid   Campeador  : 

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x7 


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Suttner. — Lay  Down  Your  Arms 
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Trollope  (Anthony). 

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Walford  (L.  B.). 

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Hartwig  (Dr.  George). 
The  Sea  and  its  Living  Wonders. 

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i8        MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


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Heroes  of  the  Polar  World.    19 
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Workers  under  the  Ground.    29 
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Marvels  Over   our  Heads.      29 

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Wild  Animals   of   the    Tropics. 

66  Illustrations.     Cr.  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

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Chance  and  Luck:  a  Discussion  of 
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Bough  Ways  made  Smooth.  Fami- 
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The  Great  Pyramid,  Observa- 
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trations.    Cr.  8vo.,  5s. 

Nature  Studies.  By  R.  A.  Proc- 
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Stanley.—  A  Familiar  History  of 
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Wood  (Rev.  J.  G.). 
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Bible  Animals  :  a  Description  of 
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Petland  Revisited.  With  33 
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Out  of  Doors;  a  Selection  of 
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Strange  Duellings  :  a  Description 
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Bird  Life  of  the  Bible.  32  Illus- 
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Wonderful  Nests.  30  Illustrations. 
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Wild  Animals  of  the  Bible.  29 
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Social  Habit  a  tions  and  Parasitic 
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19 


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Longmans'  Gazetteer  of  the 
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holm,  M.A.,  B.Sc.  Imp.  8vo.,  £2  2s.  cloth, 
£2  1 2s.  6d.  half-morocco. 

Maunder's  (Samuel)  Treasuries. 

Biographical  Treasury.  With 
Supplement  brought  down  to  1889.  By 
Rev.  James  Wood.     Fcp.  8vo.,  6s. 

Treasury  of  Natural  History : 
or,  Popular  Dictionary  of  Zoology.  With 
goo  Woodcuts.     Fcp.  8vo.,  6s. 

Treasury  of  Geography,  Physical, 
Historical,  Descriptive,  and  Political. 
With  7  Maps  and  16  Plates.   Fcp.  8vo.,  6s. 

The  Treasury  of  Bible  Know- 
ledge. By  the  Rev.  J.  Ayre,  M.A.  With , 
5  Maps,  15  Plates,  and  300  Woodcuts. 
Fcp.    8vo.,   6s. 

Treasury  of  Knowledge  and  Lib- 
rary of  Reference.     Fcp.  8vo.,  6s. 


Maunder's  (Samuel)  Treasuries — 

continued. 

Historical  Treasury.  Fcp.8vo.,6s. 

Scientific  and  Literary  Trea- 
sury.   Fcp.  8vo.,  6s. 

The  Treasury  of  Botany.  Edited 
by  J.  Lindley,  F.R.S.,  and  T.  Moore, 
F.L.S.  With  274  Woodcuts  and  20  Steel 
Plates.     2  vols.     Fcp.  8vo.,  12s. 

Roget.  —  Thesa  ur  us  of  English 
Words  and  Phrases.  Classified  and  Ar- 
ranged so  as  to  Facilitate  the  Expression  of 
Ideas  and  assist  in  Literary  Composition. 
By  Peter  Mark  Roget,  M.D.,  F.R.S. 
Crown  Svo.,  10s.  6d. 

Wl\\ich.--PopuLAR  Tables  for  giving 
information  for  ascertaining  the  value  of 
Lifehold,  Leasehold,  and  Church  Property, 
the  Public  Funds,  &c.  By  Charles  M. 
Willich.  Edited  by  H.  Bence  Jones. 
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Crake  (Rev.  A.  D.). 

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Brian  Fitz- Count.  A  Story  of 
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Lang  (Andrew). — Edited  by. 

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Meade  (L.  T.). 

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M  olesworth — Sil  i  -er  thorns.       By 

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'Stevenson. — A  Child's  Garden  of 
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2o        MESSRS.   LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


Longmans'  Series 

Price  2s. 

Atelier  {The)  Du  Lys  :  or,  an  Art 

Student  in  the  Reign  ot  Terror. 
By  the  same  Author. 
Mademoiselle  Mori:  a  I  That  Child. 

Tale  of  Modern  Rome.    Under  a  Cloud. 
In  the  Olden  Time  :  a   //ester's  Venture 

Tale   of  the   Peasant     'The    Fiddler    of 

War  in  Germany.  Lugau. 

The  Younger  Sister.    A    Child    of   the 
Revolution. 


Atherstone    Priory.        By    L.    N. 

COMYN. 

The  Story  of  a  Spring  Morning, 
etc.     By  Mrs.  Molesworth.     Illustrated. 

The  Palace  in  the  Garden.  By 
Mrs.  Molesworth.  With  Illustrations. 
Crown  8vo.,  2s.  6d. 


of  Books  for  Girls. 

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Neighbours.     By  Mrs.  Molesworth. 

The  Third  Miss  St.  Quentin.  By 
Mrs.  Molesworth. 

Very  Young;  and  Quite  Another 
Story.     Two  Stories.     By  Jean  Ingelow. 

Can  this  be  Love?    By  Louisa  Parr. 

Keith  Deramore.     By  the  Author  of 

'  Miss  Molly '. 
Sidney.     By  Margaret  Deland. 

Last  Words  to  Girls  on  Life  at 
School  and  after  School.  By  Mrs.  W. 
Grey. 


Stray  Thoughts  for  Girls.  By 
Lucy  H.  M.  Soulsby,  Head  Mistress  of 
Oxford  High  School.     i6mo.,  is.  6d.  net. 


The  Silver 

Crown  8vo.     3s.  6d 
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71  Illustrations.     31.  6d. 
Bagehot's  (W.)  Biographical  Studies.     3*.  6d. 
Bagehot's  (W.)  Economic  Studies.    3.?.  6d. 
Bagehot's  {VI.)  Literary  Studies.  With  Portrait. 

3  vols,  3s.  6d.  each- 
Baker's  (Sir  S.  W.)  Eight  Years  in  Ceylon. 

With  6  Illustrations.     3-r.  6d. 
Baker's  (Sir  S.  W.)  Rifle  and  Hound  in  Ceylon. 

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Middle  Ages.    3^.  6d. 
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ment of  Religious  Belief.    2  vols.    35. 6d.  each. 
Becker's  (Prof.)  Gall  us :  or,  Roman  Scenes  in  the 

Time  of  Augustus.     Illustrated.     3s.  6d. 
Becker's  (Prof.)  Charicles:  or,  Illustrations  of 

the   Private    Life   of   the    Ancient    Greeks. 

Illustrated,     y.  6d. 
Bent's  (J.  T.)  The  Ruined  Cities  of  Mashona- 

land.     With  117  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Brassey's  (Lady)  A  Voyage  in  the  '  Sunbeam '. 

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Clodd's  (E.)  Story  of  Creation :  a  Plain  Account 

of  Evolution.     With  jj  Illustrations.    3s.  6d. 
Conybeare  (Rev.  W.  J.)  and  Howson's  (Yery 

Rev.  J.  S.)  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul. 

46  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Dougall's  (L.)  Beggars  All :  a  Novel.     3s.  6d. 
Doyle's  (A.  Conan)  Micah  Clarke.      A  Tale  of 

Monmouth's    Rebellion.       10    Illustrations. 

3s.  6d. 
Doyle's  (A.  Conan)  The  Captain  of  the  Polestar, 

and  other  Tales.     3^.  6d. 
Doyle's  (A.  Conan)  The  Refugees:  A  Tale  of 

Two  Continents.  With  25  Illustrations.   3s  6d. 
Froude's  (J.  A.)  Short  Studies  on  Great  Sub- 
jects.   4  vols.     3J.  6d.  each. 
Froude's  (J.  A.)  Thomas  Carlyle :  a  History  of 

his  Life. 

I795"l835-     2  vols-     Is- 
1834-1881.     2  vols.     js. 


Library. 

each  Volume. 

Froude's  (J.  A.)  Ctesar :  a  Sketch.  '  3s.  6d. 

Froude's   (J.  A.)   The  Spanish  Story   of  the 

Armada,  and  other  Essays.     3s.  6d. 
Froude's  (J.  A.)  The  Two  Chiefs  of  Dunboy :  an 

Irish  Romance  of  the  Last  Century.     3s.  bd. 
Froude's  (J.  A.)  The  History  of  England,  from 

the   Fall  of  Wolsey   to   the   Defeat   of   the 

Spanish  Armada.     12  vols.     35.  6d.  each. 
Froude's  (J.  A.)  The  English  in  Ireland.    3  vols. 

105.  6d. 
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Wellington.     With  Portrait.     3s.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  She :  A  History  of  Adventure. 

32  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)   Allan  Quatermain.     With 

20  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
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Tale  of  Country  Life.     3s.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  Cleopatra.     With  29  Full- 
page  Illustrations.     35.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  Eric  Brighteyes.    With  51 

Illustrations.      3s.   6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  Beatrice.    3-r.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  Allan's  Wife.    With  34  Illus- 
trations.    3^.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  The  Witch's  Head.    With 

16  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  Mr.  Meeson's  Will.    With 

16  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Haggard's   (H.  R.)  Nada  the  Lily.    With  23 

Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.R.)  Dawn.  With  i6Illusts.  3s.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)  and  Lang's  (A.)  The  World's 

Desire.    With  27  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Harte's  (Bret)  In  the  Carquinez  Woods  and 

other  Stories.    3.?.  6d. 
Helmholtz's  (Hermann  von)  Popular  Lectures 

on  Scientific  Subjects.    With  68  Illustrations. 

2  vols.     3s.  6d.  each. 
Hornung's  (E.  W.)  The  Unbidden  Guest.   3s.  6d. 
Howitt's  (W.)  Visits  to  Remarkable  Places 

80  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 


MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS,        21 


The  Silver  Library— continued. 


Jefferies'  (R.)  The   Story  of  My  Heart:    My 

Autobiography.     With  Portrait.     3s.  6d. 
Jefferies'    (R.)    Field    and    Hedgerow.     With 

Portrait.     35.  6d. 

Jefferies'  (R.)  Red  Deer.  17  Illustrations,  3s.  6d. 

Jefferies'  (R.)   Wood   Magic:  a  Fable.     With 

Frontispiece  and  Vignette  by  E.  V.  B.    35.  6d. 

Jefferies  (R.)  The  Toilers  of  the  Field.    With 

Portrait  from  the  Bust  in  Salisbury  Cathedral. 

3s.  6d. 
Knight's  (E.  F.)  The  Cruise  of  the    'Alerto': 

the  Narrative  of  a  Search  for  Treasure  on 

the    Desert   Island   of    Trinidad.      With    2 

Maps  and  23  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Knight's  (E.  F.)  Where  Three  Empires  Meet:  a 

Narrative    of    Recent   Travel    in    Kashmir, 

Western  Tibet,  Baltistan,  Gilgit.  With  a  Map 

and  54  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Lang's  (A.)  Angling  Sketches.     20  Illustrations. 

3s.  6d. 
Lang's  (A.)  Custom  and  Myth:  Studies  of  Early 

Usage  and  Belief.     3s.  6d. 
Lees  (J.  A.)  and  Clutterbuck's  (W.   J.)  B.  C. 

1887,  A  Ramble  in  British  Columbia.     With 

Maps  and  75  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 
Macaulay's  (Lord)  Essays  and  Lays  of  Ancient 

Rome.  With  Portrait  and  Illustration.  3s.  6d. 
Macleod's  (H.  D.)  Elements  of  Banking.  35.  6d. 
Marshmari's    (J.    C.)    Memoirs  of    Sir  Henry 

Havelock.    3s.  6d. 
Max  Mailer's  (F.)  India,  what  can  it  teach  us  ? 

3s.  6d. 
Max  Mailer's  (F.)  Introduction  to  the  Science 

of  Religion.    3s.  6d. 
Merivale's    (Dean)    History    of    the    Romans 

under  the  Empire.     8  vols.     3s.  6d.  each. 
Mill's  (J.  S.)  Political  Economy.    3s.  6d. 


Mill's  (J.  S.)  System  of  Logic.    3s.  6d. 

Milner's  (Geo.)  Country  Pleasures :  the  Chroni- 
cle of  a  Year  chiefly  in  a  Garden.     3s.  6d. 

Nansen's  (F.)  The  First  Crossing  of  Greenland. 
With  Illustrations  and  a  Map.     3s.  6d. 

Phillipps-Wolley's  (C.)  Snap :  a  Legend  of  the 
Lone  Mountain.     13  Illustrations.     3.?.  6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  The  Orbs  Around  Us.     35.  6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  The  Expanse  of  Heaven. 
3.5.  6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  Other  Worlds  than  Ours.  3s.6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  Rough  Ways  made  Smooth. 
3s.  6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  Pleasant  Ways  in  Science. 
3s.  6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  Myths  and  Marvels  of  As- 
tronomy.   3s.  6d. 

Proctor's  (R.  A.)  Nature  Studies.    3.?.  6d. 

Rossetti's  (Maria  F.)  A  Shadow  of  Dante.  3s.  6d. 

Smith's  (R.  Bosworth)  Carthage  and  the  Cartha- 
ginians.    With  Maps,  Plans,  &c.     3s.  6d. 

Stanley's  (Bishop)  Familiar  History  of  Birds. 
160  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 

Stevenson  (R.  L.)  and  Osbourne's  (LI.)  The 
Wrong  Box.    3s.  6d. 

Stevenson  (Robert  Louis)  and  Stevenson's 
(Fanny  van  de  Grift)  More  New  Arabian 
Nights. — The  Dynamiter.     3s.  6d. 

Weyman's  (Stanley  J.)  The  House  of  the 
Wolf :  a  Romance.     3s.  6d. 

Wood's  (Rev.  J.  G.)  Petlahd  Revisited.  With 
33  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 

Wood's  (Rev.  J.  G.)  Strange  Dwellings.  With 
60  Illustrations.     3s.  6d. 

Wood's  (Rev.  J.  G.)  Out  of  Doors.  11  Illustra- 
tions.    3s.  6d. 


Cookery,   Domestic  Management,   Gardening,   etc. 


Acton.  —  Modern  Cookery.  By 
Eliza  Acton.  With  150  Woodcuts.  Fcp. 
8vo.,  45.  6d. 

Bull  (Thomas,  M.D.). 

Hints  to  Mothers  on  the  Man- 
agement of  their  Health  during  the 
Period  of  Pregnancy.  Fcp.  8vo.,  15.  6d. 

The  Maternal  Management  of 
Children  in  Health  and  Disease. 
Fcp.  8vo.,  15.  6d. 

De  Salis  (Mrs.). 

Cakes    and     Confections    a     la 

Mode.     Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 
Dogs:    A    Manual    for    Amateurs. 

Fcp.  8vo.,  15.  6d. 
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Mode.    Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 
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Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 
Drinks  2  la  Mode.  Fcp.  8vo.,  is.6d. 

Entries  a  la  Mode.  Fcp.  8vo., 
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De  Salis  (Mrs.). — Works  by — con- 
tinued. 

Floral  Decorations.  Fcp.  8vo., 
is.  6d. 

Gardening  a  la  Mode.  Fcp.  8vo. 
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National  Viands  a  la  Mode.  Fcp. 

8vo.,  is.  6d. 
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Oysters  a   la   Mode.     Fcp.  8vo., 

is.  6d. 

Puddings  and  Pastry  a  la  Mode. 

Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 
Savouries  a.  la  Mode.     Fcp.  8vo., 

is.  6d. 

Soups  and  Dressed  Pish  a"  la 
Mode.     Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  td. 

Sii  rets  and  Supper  Dishes  a  la 
Mode.     Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 

Tempting  Dishes  for  Small  In- 
comes.    Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  td. 

Wrinkles  and  Notions  for 
Every  Household.    Crown  8vo.,  is.  6d. 


22        MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


Cookery,  Domestie  Management,  &e. — continued. 


Lear \—Ma igre  Cookery.  By  H.  L. 
Sidney  Lear.     i6mo„  25. 

Poole. — Cookery  for  the  Diabetic. 
By  W.  H.  and  Mrs.  Poole.  With  Preface 
by  Dr.  Pavy.     Fcp.  8vo.,  2s.  6d. 

Walker. — A  Book  for  Every  Wo- 
man. Part  I.,  The  Management  of  Children 
in  Health  and  out  of  Health.  By  Jane 
H.  Walker,  L.R.C.P.I.,  L.R.C.S.,  M.D. 
(Brux).     Crown  8vo.,  2s.  6d. 


Walker. — A  Handbook  for  Mo- 
thers :  being  Simple  Hints  to  Women  on 
the  Management  of  their  Health  during 
Pregnancy  and  Confinement,  together  with 
Plain  Directions  as  to  the  Care  of  Infants. 
By  Jane  H.  Walker,  L.R.C.P.I.,  L.R.C.S., 
and  M.D.  (Brux).     Crown  8vo.,  25.  6d. 


Miscellaneous  and  Critical  Works. 


Allingham. —  Varieties  in  Prose. 
By  William  Allingham.  3  vols.  Cr.  8vo., 
18s.  (Vols.  1  and  2,  Rambles,  by  Patricius 
Walker.     Vol.  3,  Irish  Sketches,  etc.) 

Armstrong. — Ess  a  ys  and  Ske  tches. 

By  Edmund  J.  Armstrong.     Fcp.  8vo.,  55. 

Bagehot.— Literary  Studies.  By 
Walter  Bagehot.  With  Portrait.  3  vols. 
Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d.  each. 

Baring-Gould. —  Curious  Myths  of 
_    the  Middle  Ages.    By  Rev.  S.  Baring- 
Gould.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Battye.  —  Pictures  in  Prose  of 
Nature,  Wild  Sport,  and  Humble  Life. 
By  Aubyn  Trevor  Battye,  F.L.S.,  F.Z.S. 
Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

Baynes.  : —  Shakespeare  Studies, 
and  other  Essays.  By  the  late  Thomas 
Spencer  Baynes,  LL.B.,  LL.D.  With  a 
Biographical  Preface  by  Professor  Lewis 
Campbell.     Crown  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Boyd  (A.  K.  H.)  ('A.K.H.B.'). 

And  see  Miscellaneous  Theological  Works,  p.  24. 

Autumn  Holidays  of  a  Country 
Larson.     Crown  8vo.,  35.  6d. 

Commonplace  Philosopher.      Cr. 

8vo.,  3s.  6d. 
Critical    Essays  of  a    Country 

Parson.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

East  Coast  Days  and  Memories. 

Crown  8vo.,    3s.   6d. 
Landscapes,  Churches,  and  Mora- 

.  lities.      Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 
Leisure  Hours  in  Town.     Crown 

8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Lessons  of  Middle  Age.     Crown 

8vo.,  3s.  6d. 
•Our   Little   Life.      Two    Series. 

Crown  8vo.,  3*.  6d.  each. 


Boyd     (A.  K.  H. 

continued. 


('A.K.H.B.').— 

AND    TRA- 


Our  Homely  Comedy 

GEDY.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

RECREA  TIONS  OF  A  COUNTR  yPaRSON. 
Three  Series.  Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d.  each. 
Also  First  Series.  Popular  Edition.  8vo., 
6d. 

Butler  (Samuel). 
Erewhon.     Crown  8vo.,  55. 

The  Fair  Haven.  A  Work  in  De- 
fence of  the  Miraculous  Element  in  our 
Lord's  Ministry.     Cr.  8vo.,  ys.  6d. 

Life  and  Habit.  An  Essay  after  a 
Completer  View  of  Evolution.  Cr.  8vo., 
ys.  6d. 

Evolution,  Old  and  New.  Cr. 
8vo.,  1  os.  6d. 

Alps  and  Sanctuaries  of  Pied- 
mont and  Canton  Tic/no.  Illustrated. 
Pott  4to.,  10s.  6d. 

Luc  A',  or  Cunning,  as  the  Main 
Means  of  Organic  Modification? 
Cr.  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Ex  Vow.  An  Account  of  the  Sacro 
Monte  or  New  Jerusalem  at  Varallo-Sesia. 
Crown  8vo.,  10s.  6d. 

Gwilt. — An  Encyclopaedia  of  Ar- 
chitecture. By  Joseph  Gwilt,  F.S.A. 
Illustrated  with  more  than  1100  Engravings 
on  Wood.  Revised  (1888),  with  Alterations 
and  Considerable  Additions  by  Wyatt 
Papworth.     8vo.,  £2  12s.  6d. 

James. — Mining  Royalties  :  their 
Practical  Operation  and  Effect.  By 
Charles  Ashworth  James,  of  Lincoln's 
Inn,  Barrister-at-Law.     Fcp.  4to. ,  5s. 


MESSRS.   LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


23 


Miscellaneous  and  Critical  Works  -continued. 


Jefferies. — (Richard). 

Field  and  Hedgerow:  last  Essays. 
With  Portrait.      Crown  8vo.,  35.  bd. 

The  Story  of  My  Heart:  my 
Autobiography.  With  Portrait  and  New 
Preface  by  C.  J.  Longman.  Crown  8vo., 
35.  bd. 

Red  Deer.  With  17  Illustrations 
by  J.  Charlton  and  H.  Tunaly.  Crown 
8vo.,  35.  bd. 

The  Toilers  of  the  Field.  With 
Portrait  from  the  Bust  in  Salisbury 
Cathedral.     Crown  8vo.,  35.  6d. 

Wood  Magic  :  a  Fable.  With  Fron- 
tispiece and  Vignette  by  E.  V.  B.  Crown 
8vo. ,  3s.  6d. 

Thoughts  from  the  Writings  of 
Richard  Jefferies.  Selected  by  H.  S. 
Hoole  Waylen.     i6mo.,  35.  bd. 

Johnson. — The  Patentee's  Man- 
ual :  a  Treatise  on  the  Law  and  Practice 
of  Letters  Patent.  By  J.  &  J.  H.Johnson, 
Patent  Agents,  &c.      8vo.,  105.  6d. 

Lang  (Andrew). 

Letters  to  -Dead  Authors.     Fcp. 

8vo.,  25.   6d.  net. 
Books  and  Bookmen.       With    2 

Coloured     Plates    and    17    Illustrations. 

Fcp.  8vo.,  2s.  6d.  net. 
Old  Friends.  Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d.  net. 
Letters    on   Literature.      Fcp. 

"8vo.,  2.s.  bd.  net. 
Cock  Lane  and    Common  Sense. 

Fcp.  8vo.,  6s.  bd.  net. 

Laurie. — -Historical  Survey  of 
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Laurie,  A.M.,  LL.D.     Crown  8vo.,  125. 

Leonard. —  The   Camel  :    Its   Uses 

and  Management.  By  Major  Arthur  Glyn 
Leonard,  late  2nd  East  Lancashire  Regi-^ 
ment.     Royal  8vo.,  21s.  net. 

Max  Miiller  (F). 

India:  What  can  it  Teach  Us? 
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Chips  from  a  German  Workshop. 

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Vol.  II.  Biographical  Essays.  Crown 
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Vol.  III.  Essays  on  Language  and  Litera- 
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Vol.  IV.  Essays  on  Mythology  and  Folk 
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Macfarren.  —  Lectures  on  Har- 
mony. By  Sir  George  A.  Macfarren. 
8vo.,  12s. 

Milner  (George). 

Country  Pleasures  :  the  Chronicle 
of  a  Year  chiefly  in  a  Garden.  Cr.  8vo., 
3s.  bd. 

Studies  of  Na  ture  on  the  Coast 
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Poore. — Essays  on  Rural  Hygiene. 
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Proctor  (Richard  A.). 
Strength  and  Happiness.    With  9 

Illustrations.      Crown  8vo.,  5s. 
Strength  :  How  to  get  Strong  and 

keep  Strong,  with  Chapters  on   Rowing 

and  Swimming,  Fat,  Age,  and  the  Waist. 

With  g  Illustrations.     Crown  8vo.,  2s. 

Richardson. —  Na tional   Health. 

A  Review  of  the  Works  of  Sir  Edwin  Chad- 
wick,  K.C.B.  By  Sir  B.  W.  Richardson, 
M.D.     Crown  8vo.,  4s.  bd. 

Rossetti. ~-A  Shadow  of  Dante: 
being  an  Essay  towards  studying  Himself, 
his  World  and  his  Pilgrimage.  By  Maria 
Fraxcesca  Rossetti.  With  Frontispiece 
by  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti.  Cr.  8vo., 
10s.  bd.     Cheap  Edition,  3s.  bd. 

Solovyoff. — A  Modern  Priestess 
of  /sis  (Madame  Blavatsky).  Abridged 
and  Translated  on  Behalf  of  the  Society  for 
Psychical  Research  from  the  Russian  of 
Vsevolod  Sergyeevich  Solovyoff.  By 
Walter  Leaf,  Litt.  D.  With  Appendices. 
Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

Stevens. — On  the  Stowage  of  Ships 
and  their  Cargoes.  With  Information  re- 
garding Freights,  Charter- Parties,  &c.  By 
Robert  White  Stevens,  Associate-Mem- 
ber of  the  Institute  of  Naval  Architects. 
8vo.,  21s. 

Van  Dyke. — A  Text- Book  of  the 
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Dyke,  of  Rutgers  College,  U.S.  With 
Frontispiece  and  109  Illustrations  in  the 
Text.     Crown  8vo.,  6s. 

West. —  Wills,  and  How  Not  to 
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Cases.  By  B.  B.  West,  Author  of  "  Half- 
Hours  with  the  Millionaires ".  Fcp.  8vo., 
2S.   bd. 


24        MESSRS.  LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL  WORKS. 


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Balfour.  —  The  Foundations  of 
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Study  of  Theology.  By  the  Right  Hon. 
Arthur  J.  Balfour,  M.P.     8vo.,  12s.  6d. 

Boyd  (A.  K.  H.). 

OCCA  SIONA  L  ANDlMMEMORIA  L  Da  YS I 
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Present  Day  Thoughts.  Crown 
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Seaside  Musings.     Cr.  8vo.,  35.  6d. 

'  To  Meet  the  Day'  through  the 
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Selection  in  Verse  for  Every  Day.  Crown 
8vo.,  4s.  6d. 

De  la  Saussaye.  —  A  Manual  of 

the  Science  of  Religion.  By  Professor 
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by  Mrs.  Colyer  Fergusson  (nee  Max 
Muller).     Crown  8vo.,  12s.  6d. 

Kalisch(M.  M.,  Ph.D.). 

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phecies of  Balaam.  8vo.,  105.  6d.  Part 
II.     The  Book  of  Jonah.     8vo.,  10s.  6d. 

Commentary  on  the  Old  Testa- 
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Genesis.  8vo.,  18s.  Or  adapted  for  the 
General  Reader.  12s.  Vol.  II.  Exodus. 
15s.  Or  adapted  for  the  General  Reader. 
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Or  adapted  for  the  General  Reader.  85. 
Vol.  IV.  Leviticus,  Part  II.  15s.  Or 
adapted  for  the  General  Reader.     8s. 

Macdonald  (George,  LL.D.). 

Unspoken  Sermons.  Three  Series. 
Crown  8vo.,  35.  6d.  each. 

The  Miracles  of  our  Lord. 
Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

A  Boo  A"  of  Strife,  in  the  Form 
of  the  Diary  of  an  Old  Soul  :  Poems. 
i8mo.,  65. 
10,000/12/95. 


Martineau  (James,  D.D.,  LL.D.). 

Hours    of   Thought    on    Sacred 
Things  :  Sermons,  2  vols.     Crown  8vo., 
js.  6d.  each. 
Endeavours  after  the  Christian 
Life.     Discourses.     Crown  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 
The   Seat  of  Authority  in  Re- 
ligion.   8vo.,  14s. 
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Religious. 

Home  Prayers,  with  Two  Services 
for  Public  Worship.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Max  Muller  (F.). 

Hibbert  Lectures  on  the  Origin 
and  Growth  of  Religion,  as  illustrated 
by  the  Religions  of  India.    Cr.  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Lntroduction  to  the  Science  of 
Religion  :  Four  Lectures  delivered  at  the 
Royal  Institution.     Crown  8vo.,  3s.'  6d. 

Natural  Religion.  The  Gifford 
Lectures,  delivered  before  the  University 
of  Glasgow  in  1888.     Crown  8vo.,  10s.  6d. 

Physical  Religion.  The  Gifford 
Lectures,  delivered  before  the  University 
of  Glasgow  in  1890.     Crown  8vo.,  10s,  6d. 

Anthropological  Religion.  The 
Gifford  Lectures,  delivered  before  the  Uni- 
versity of  Glasgow  in  1891.  Cr.  8vo.,  ios.6d. 

Theosophy,  or  Psychological  Re- 
ligion. The  Gifford  Lectures,  delivered 
before  the  University  of  Glasgow  in  1892. 
Crown  8vo.,  10s.  6d. 

Three  Lectures  on  the  Vedanta 
Philosophy,    delivered     at     the    Royal 
Institution  in  March,  1894.     8vo.,  5s. 
Phillips.  —  The    Teaching   of   the 

Vedas.     What  Light  does  it  Throw  on  the 

Origin  and  Development  of  Religion  ?     By 

Maurice      Phillips,     London     Mission, 

Madras.     Crown  8vo.,  65. 

Romanes. — Thoughts  on  Religion. 
By   George  J.  Romanes,    LL.D.,   F.R.S. 
Crown  8vo.,  4s.  6d. 
S  UPERNA  TURAL     RELLGLON  : 
an  Inquiry  into  the  Reality  of  Divine  Revela- 
tion.    3  vols.     8vo.,  36s. 
Reply  (A)    to    Dr.   Lightfoot's 
JSssays.     By  the  Author  of '  Supernatural 
Religion '.     8vo.,  6s. 
The    Gospel    according    to     St. 
Peter:    a   Study.      By    the   Author  of 
'Supernatural  Religion'.     8vo.,  6s. 
Thom. — A  Spiritual  Faith.     Ser- 
mons.    By  John  Hamilton  Thom.     With 
a  Memorial  Preface  by  James  Martineau, 
D.D.     With  Portrait.     Crown  8vo,  5s. 


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